Hello, my pretties! I updated this fast, huh? And it's so long? Do you know why? Do you? Huh? Huh?

It's probably because I LOVE YOU ALL and got heaploads of reviews on the last chapter. I also have some issues to address, however. (Prepare yourselves for a long A/N; if you want you can skip it.)

1. USUK. I've had a couple people a bit upset with the developing relationship between Alfred and Arthur and disappointed that it hasn't happened the same for Alfred and Ivan. It had to be that way. I'm sorry. I hope this chapter clears up a bit about why I had to make them so close ;) (And, by the way, there will be a lot more of Ivan in the next chapter.)

2. I have *ahem* more than 300 reviews. And it makes me possibly the happiest person alive. :D Or at least the happiest writer. So I have to decide what to do about this hurm hurm hurm. The way I see it, there are a few possibilities. I could do a bunch of oneshots, if you'd like. Or I could, once I finish this, create a sequel or companion fic. Multichapter, of course. Or I could just stop writing XD Whatever you guys like.

Whew. My fingers hurt already. Or maybe that's from writing this collossal thing all today. Huh. I dunno.

Enjoy ^^

The walk home was quiet, and it took everything in Ivan's power to force himself to breathe. Alfred seemed perfectly content, though he remained silent. All that could be heard were the dull clicks of footsteps on the sidewalk, and they slowly worked their way into Ivan's brain. It was still mid-afternoon but it felt like much later. Breathe in, breathe out. Remain calm.

He'd said it. He'd showed up, he'd told Alfred how he felt and still…still nothing had changed. Nothing had changed. You'd think he'd told Alfred that his favorite color was purple, or that he had homework tonight, or that he wasn't fond of tea. Nothing. All that buildup for such…for so much nothing.

"Hey," Alfred said suddenly. Ivan's attention snapped to him, watching the shorter boy intently as he spoke. "I tried to get Kiku to come film but he couldn't. So we're gonna have to find some place to put the video camera."

"A tree," Ivan offered. But this was wrong. This wasn't how things should be. In movies when someone confessed love the other person understood. The other person felt the same. They kissed in the rain and then there was a freeze-frame and the movie ended. Roll credits. And they lived happily ever after. This was not happy, nor ever, nor after.

"That's what I was thinking. But I think we also have this tripod thing somewhere, 'cause Mom used to do this whole big photography thing." Alfred's hands slid into his pockets as they walked, and Ivan could see him relaxing.

Tell him again, Ivan thought to himself. Tell him that you don't just like him, you love him. Make him understand. He has to understand. He has to.

"A tripod would work as well," Ivan said after a moment. He needed to focus. His thoughts were running rampant everywhere, making it impossible to process anything. To think. Ivan took a deep breath as they turned the corner into Alfred's walkway. Well, if he couldn't tell Alfred, he'd show him instead.

Ivan took an extra long step, hoping Alfred didn't notice how he moved ahead just a bit. Then his fingers closed around the doorknob, opening it and gesturing for Alfred to go inside. The blond boy gave him a bit of a strange look but still mumbled out a "thank you." Ivan's heart was pounding as he let out a breath, congratulating himself on not screwing that one up. He followed Alfred into the house.

"Hey, Al, I—" Matthew stopped short, mouth open as he saw Ivan. He was sitting on the couch, perched was seemed to be rather uncomfortably on the center cushion. "Um, sorry I couldn't come today," he finished, eyes glued to Ivan.

"It's okay," Alfred said. Then his eyes widened and he turned to Ivan. "Mattie! I forgot!"

Ivan could tell where this was going. "Yes, Alfred?" he asked anyway.

"He can film! Man, completely slipped the mind."

"Big surprise," Matthew commented lightly from the couch, probably rolling his eyes. It was uncanny how much he looked like Alfred, despite being fairly removed genetically. Just take away the long hair and maybe make him a bit shorter…but Alfred was better. He was stronger, he smiled more, his eyes were bluer. He grinned and laughed at everything, he was kind, he told the truth…he couldn't help but be the center of attention. And his face, tanned through inheritance and strong-boned…his smile was like turning on every light in existence. If anything, Ivan should have called him the sunflower. He was sure more like one than Ivan himself was. They were complete opposites, and Alfred was everything Ivan wanted to be. And be around. And be with.

"So can you?" Alfred asked. Ivan snapped back into reality, eyeing Matthew carefully.

"I do not think that will be necessary," he said, trying to sound as nice as possible. But really, it wouldn't be necessary. It would only throw a wrench in the plans Ivan had been forming. Plans that would make Alfred understand. Plans that would make Alfred realize.

"Um…" Matthew swallowed, looking from Alfred to Ivan and back again. "I dunno…I mean…Aunt May wanted me to clean…and…um…"

"C'mon," Alfred said, grinning. Ivan tried not to scowl.

"No, Alfred, it's really alright. This is our project, isn't it?" Ivan asked, hoping he didn't sound as demanding as he had earlier. That had not yielded the most…favorable results.

"Yeah…but wouldn't it look better if we had a cameraman? Like…"

"It would be shaky. Even with Matthew's…" Ivan eyed the other boy, "…skills. Do not trouble him."

Alfred looked like he was going to argue but then sighed and shrugged. "Whatever. I'll go get the sheets and stuff."

The boy dropped his backpack to the floor, heading up to his room. Ivan didn't move, watching Matthew. Alfred's cousin stared at Ivan nervously and it was all silent for just a moment.

"Um…Ivan?"

"Yes?" Ivan asked, if not a bit snappily.

"Do you…uh…do you…like Alfred?"

Ivan's nostrils flared. "Why?"

"Just wondering. Because you…um…you kind of stare at him a lot. Like that."

There was a long moment of silence, as Ivan debated how to answer that. What, should he deny it? Or…or could Matthew…and he did not want to say this… could Matthew help him? Ivan didn't want to take too many chances, but that, apparently, could not stop his mouth from moving anyway.

"So it is obvious, then?"

Matthew seemed surprised for a moment, but then he smiled. "Not really. I suppose you just learn to notice things…when nobody really notices you."

"Oh, I think you are very apparent," Ivan said, raising his eyebrows a little.

"He's obsessed with that one girl, you know. The admirer?" Matthew shrugged.

"Sunflower. I know."

"He told you, eh? Yeah, he was really going on about her…"

Ivan heard some faint rummaging around upstairs. It seemed as though Alfred was going to take a sufficient amount of time. And, despite everything, Ivan liked Matthew. He was easy to talk to. Not judgmental, not opinionated, and if nobody noticed him he could probably keep a secret.

"It is funny, you know, how you all assume that Sunflower is female," Ivan said, phrasing the sentence carefully. "What information have you gotten to tell you this?"

"I don't know. That's just what Alfred told me."

"I think you should entertain the possibility that his precious Sunflower may be a boy."

It took Matthew a second but then his eyes widened. "Wait a minute. That's…it's you?"

"Perhaps," Ivan said noncommittally, but he knew that Matthew understood. It felt…almost good to tell someone. It felt nice. And also a bit regretful. As though it might not have been the best idea. He'd just have to see. It wasn't like he was all that used to having to trust people.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Matthew promised, smiling. It was strange, how much the smaller boy had warmed up to him. Maybe knowing a secret about someone was good for making friends. If it worked that way Ivan would rather die alone.

There were some more thuds upstairs and Ivan quickly turned back to Matthew. "Could you…are you on good terms with your cousin?"

"Yes. I hope so."

"Could you, in that case…" Oh, this would be difficult. Difficult but necessary. "…hint? To Alfred? That…Sunflower may not be a girl," he finished slowly, making sure the sentence was as neutral as possible. Matthew blinked a moment before nodding.

"I can try. No promises as to how it'll work."

"Ah…thank you," Ivan said, and as if on cue a series of rapid thuds came blasting from the staircase. Alfred had returned.

The Joneses really had too many sheets for their own good. It wasn't like they had all that many beds but hell, they could start a bedspread museum if they wanted to. Alfred was sure to grab only the white ones, getting four just to be safe. Anyway, they had so many it wasn't like his mother would miss a few around the edges.

Alfred was just about to start down the stairs when he heard some rustling from his mom's bedroom. Then there was the clearing of a throat and, "Alfred? Would you come here a minute?"

Alfred hobbled over to the large bedroom at the end of the upstairs hall, nearly drowning in a mountain of bedsheets he'd unfolded in his rummaging. The door was open just a crack so he bumped it ajar with his back.

"Alfred, what are you doing?"

His mother was sitting crosslegged on the bed, stacks of disheveled magazines lying in an arc around her. And that poor little side table was turned upside down, legs sticking in the air like some turtle flipped on its back. Minus the wiggling and smell of rotting stuff. Alfred had done that once, at this pond his grandparents took him too.

"I'm getting stuff together for the project. It's due Friday and me and Ivan were gonna go up the hill today."

"The forecast is for rain," Alfred's mother said, snipping out some vaguely mushroom-shaped picture from a Vogue magazine. There was a bit of silence before she spoke again. "Honey, how often do you see Arthur?"

Alfred peered at his mother from around Mount Fitted Sheet. "Like once a day. Why?"

"This is going to sound funny, but I think I really need to meet him. Soon."

Alfred didn't know quite how to respond to this, so he decided to just nod. There was no use getting involved with whatever was going on. "'Kay. Mattie was gonna try to come in during lunch tomorrow. See everybody. If you want you could probably come."

Alfred's mother smiled. "Okay. Thank you. I'm sorry for being such a bother."

"No, s'okay. The more the merrier," Alfred said, smiling brightly. "I gotta go before Mattie passes out or something," he continued. "I left 'em alone together, and Matt's scared shitless of the big guy."

"Ha ha," Alfred's mother said sarcastically. "Language. Now go rescue your cousin."

There was a light pattering sound, and Alfred walked over to the window. His mother returned to pasting the mushroom-shaped thing onto the poor, defenseless table, as though by her dismissal Alfred would have simply disappeared. The boy pulled back the curtains, groaning loudly.

"Well shit."

"Alfred," his mother warned again. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

He paid her no mind. "It's raining. Crap." Unceremoniously he dumped all the sheets onto the floor. "Now we can't do anything."

"Dinner should be out of the oven in just a little while. I think you can hold on." There were some more snips and Alfred could see a small piece of paper in his mother's hands, one that looked a bit like a melted dog. He turned back to the window.

"This sucks. Now we only have a couple days to do this."

"You can film it in the house," his mother offered. "There's no problem with that."

"Yeah, but then it'll look cheap. Like we didn't even care enough to do anything." Alfred sighed. "Whatever. I'll go tell Ivan." He jogged out of his mother's bedroom, stepping down onto the landing.

"Alfred!" He stopped. "Sheets!"

Oh, right. Alfred jogged back into his mother's bedroom, where she was pasting the melted dog-thing onto the table. She didn't even look up at him as he picked up the huge, cushy pile of sheets, teetering a little as he brought them back into his room. Then he started back down the stairs.

Ivan and Matthew were talking a little, but they stopped as Alfred came into view. He tried to look as bummed out as possible, slouching and sighing pointedly. "It's raining. We can't do anything."

Ivan's eyebrows rose as he leaned to the side, probably trying to see out of one of the windows. "Indeed it is. That is quite unfortunate."

"I know, right? I mean, it's not like we got all the time in the world. Stupid weather."

There was a ping from the kitchen, like a timer going off. "We must do this tomorrow, then," Ivan said seriously. "Natalya needs me on Thursday."

"Right. Okay. We gotta haul ass, and I'll edit the video." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Shit."

"Alfred, language."

Alfred whirled around to see his mother, arms crossed. "Sorry," he said, rolling his eyes. "Dinner's ready."

"I know. I'm sorry about the weather. Ivan can stay to eat, if you'd like."

Ivan looked a bit uncomfortable with the proposition. "I do not want to be troublesome," he said, engaging his slick, parent-pleasing voice. It was like he had a charm switch. Alfred wished he could do that.

"It's no trouble at all, right Alfred?" his mother asked, leaving the decision up to her son. He shrugged.

"Sure. Why not?"

"I will have to call my sister, then. Please excuse me," Ivan said, smiling that fake smile Alfred didn't like and striding over to the phone by the couch. Alfred went into the kitchen and Matthew followed him, not having said a word.

As soon as the chicken was placed in front of him Alfred dug in. He hadn't realized how hungry he was, up until this glorious chicken-filled moment, however. Ivan seemed a bit more reserved, taking a tentative bite. Alfred's mother had long prided herself on baking chicken, however much she could have been better at making virtually anything else.

"Good?" she asked after a moment, already expecting the answer.

"Awesome," Alfred answered, taking another bite that seemed far too large for him to chew. Matthew used a knife, cutting the chicken up into little pieces before eating them one by one. As far as Alfred was concerned that was ridiculous.

"So, what's your project about?" Matthew asked after a moment. Ivan shifted uncomfortably, obviously not given to small talk over dinner.

"Um…so there's this one Greek myth," Alfred said, taking another bite of his quickly dwindling chicken supply.

"Roman," Ivan interjected.

"…this one Roman myth about Cupid and this human girl. And we had to work on it in school and do a project. Basically, the one goddess,"

"Venus."

"Right. Venus is all jealous of the human girl and tells Cupid to go make her fall in love with some big monster thing. So nobody can have her. Only he shoots himself and falls in love with her. So Ivan and I are going to be um…what was it?"

"Figuring out whether Cupid's accident counts as true love or not," Ivan said stiffly.

"Interesting," Alfred's mother commented simply. Matthew didn't speak.

If he was to be honest, Alfred didn't like the awkward talking around the table either. He supposed that it was just because they had two guests that they sat at the table instead of in the living room. He didn't say anything, though.

The rest of the meal was finished in what could have practically been considered silence. Alfred's mother told Matthew that she'd be coming with him to school the next day. Ivan didn't say anything unless asked. Alfred finished eating and had to sit there, listening to all the mundane chatter.

Finally, however, the meal ended, Ivan dismissing himself to go home. Alfred caught him shooting a look at Matthew but didn't think anything of it. Then they played video games and did homework until it was finally time to sleep.

"Hey, Al?"

Alfred turned over in his bed, squinting into the darkness even though he knew he wouldn't be able to see his cousin. "Yeah?" he whispered, the kind of whisper meant to carry in the dark.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah."

"Do you really like Sunflower?"

Alfred made a small noise in the back of his throat. Then he sighed. "She stood me up."

"Uh…that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Matthew whispered, pausing for a moment. "Why do you think it's a girl?"

Alfred froze in place, mouth parted slightly. "I can just kind of tell," he whispered almost inaudibly. "She just is…I mean…"

"Did she ever…um…tell you that?"

"No," Alfred said before realizing what that meant. "You mean…it might be…"

"It might be," Matthew said, voice breaking the barrier between whispering and speaking. "I'm just saying that…you can't know. Until you meet…him or her."

Alfred was quiet for a while, his whole foundation shaken. Up until now he'd just considered it a given that Sunflower was a girl. There was even the word flower in the name, for crying out loud. But Matthew was right. He didn't know. And he'd been overlooking that fact for a long time.

Now, however, it made a bit more sense. He rolled over, his back facing his cousin on the floor. It was as though the whole world was conspiring against him over the past few days, trying to tell him that he liked guys, too. From Arthur to Francis to Matthew and even to Ivan. Maybe this is what discovering yourself felt like. He'd probably never laugh at some gay guy on TV ever again.

But he knew that he wasn't completely gay. It wasn't like he was just going, 'Hey, I know that I've liked girls my entire life, but now I'm just going to abandon it so I can kiss guys!' With his hands on his hips or something. That wasn't what was happening.

He needed another opinion.

"Hey, Mattie?" he whispered to the wall. It took a second for his cousin to answer.

"…yeah?"

"Um…are you straight?"

"Last I checked." Matthew paused for a moment. "Why?"

"'Cause…I think I…might not be," Alfred said, biting his lip. He hadn't really told anyone this. Except for Ivan, but that was just because he'd been hard-pressed for it. It felt like coming out. Which was something he never thought he'd have to do. Ever.

"You think you're gay?" Matthew asked, whispers quieter than before. As if someone was listening.

"Not gay," Alfred whispered back, "Just…bi or something. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

There was some rustling of sheets from the floor, and then Alfred heard his cousin's voice right by his bed. He rolled over.

"So…if, for example, a guy had a crush on you…you wouldn't be all weirded out?" Matthew asked, probably trying to make it sound like a logic question. Those were always easiest to answer.

"Probably not. I mean, it depends. Like, on the guy." God, that was weird to say.

"…do you like anyone in particular?" Matthew asked, and Alfred decided it felt weird to be lying down while talking. He sat up, propping himself up on his hands.

"Kind of. I don't know. I mean, it's really, really confusing. Everything. It sucks."

"I'm sorry," Matthew said. "I just wanted to make sure you were…thinking outside the box."

"Yeah," Alfred said noncommittally. "You're a good guy."

"I try," Matthew said. "It's almost eleven and you have school tomorrow. And you're cranky as hell if you get less than eight hours."

"Ha ha. G'night."

Alfred laid himself back down, closing his eyes. Matthew didn't say anything else, and Alfred felt himself drifting off into sleep. Then, he heard a small buzzing noise. His phone.

He reached for it, tucked between his pillow and the headboard, bracing himself for the light when he flicked it open. Carefully he opened the phone, squinting in pain as the light hit him. Ugh. Just ugh.

He allowed himself a moment to get his eyes adjusted to the light before he opened the newest message.

I'm sorry, Alfred. I love you. I love you I love you I love you. Forever.

The hallway had been full of chattering and bustling people, all entirely absorbed in their own lives. Alfred walked quickly down the now-empty hall, knowing that he was going to be at least a little late for English. Usually he was one of the first people there but today he'd been informed that as long as he read a little monologue for the camera he'd be off the hook for the seniors' movie. So he had, though just for Gilbert, and now they were both late.

Alfred heard Ms. Héderváry's voice as it wafted from the open English room door. Gilbert grinned. "My favorite class," he said under his breath, and Alfred had to resist the images that popped into his mind. Images of rocks. In the wilderness. And certain people making out on top of them.

"Mine too," he answered, and it wasn't untrue. He enjoyed the class and if he'd had a better grade it might have been even better. He also got to talk to Ivan, and while he normally wouldn't have considered that to be a plus…well, what was normal anymore? He had to face it. He and Ivan were friends.

Gilbert entered first, interrupting Ms. Héderváry with a loud "Hey, babe!" The class laughed and Alfred slipped in, depositing a hall pass on her desk as he did.

"Gilbert, you're late. And I'll assume you don't have a pass, either."

"Nope," Gilbert said, sitting down and leaning back in his chair. "Go on, don't stop for me."

Ms. Héderváry rolled her eyes, clearing her throat. Alfred slid into his seat, opening his binder. Ivan glanced at him before quickly tearing a small piece from a notebook page and scrawling something onto it. Then he folded it once and handed it as discreetly as possible to Alfred.

There will be a Halloween party at my house. I would like you to come.

Alfred looked up at Ivan, who seemed to be paying rapt attention to Ms. Héderváry. He knew that the taller boy wasn't, however. He was probably waiting (rather impatiently) for a return note. So Alfred obliged.

When?

He slid the note onto Ivan's desk with two fingers, trying to look inconspicuous. Being in the back of the room certainly helped with these kinds of things. He waited a moment as Ivan read the note and then scribbled something into the tiny margin that was left. The paper was passed back.

Saturday at 7. Costumes.

Alfred crumpled the note up and smiled. "Okay," he whispered, making the OK sign with this fingers.

"Alfred? Having fun passing notes back there?"

The blond boy's head jerked up, eyes wide. Ms. Héderváry was watching him, one eyebrow cocked. Gilbert snorted, turning around in his seat.

"Anything we should know about?" he asked condescendingly, waggling his finger at Alfred.

"We were just…" Alfred searched his mind for some kind of witty comeback. "…talking about how nice you're looking today, Ms. H." He winked at Gilbert mockingly.

"Not you too," the teacher said, although Alfred could see a lick of concern pass across her face. "Anyway, how is your project coming along?" She was testing him now. Making sure he'd been paying attention. Putting him on the spot.

Alfred grinned. "Swimmingly."

Lunchtime came faster than expected, and Kiku wasn't there. It was odd, as Kiku never missed a day of school. In fact, Alfred realized that his shorter friend hadn't been there in the morning either. This was unexpected, but Alfred didn't dwell too much on it. He had to meet Matthew and his mother anyway.

They arrived a few minutes into the lunch period, and Alfred had just grabbed a cheeseburger and carton of milk for his adventure down the hallway.

"Al!" Matthew called, waving brightly. He was wearing a sweater vest. Alfred rolled his eyes. Mattie wasn't really very adept in social situations, and sometimes he looked like an idiot.

"Hey, you gotta sign in first!" Alfred called back, gesturing to the main office right next to the front doors. They nodded and soon were on their way.

"So, Mattie, Kiku isn't here today but I can show you a couple other people. Mom, I think that Artie and people are doing their movie, so I can probably butt in and you can say hi," Alfred explained as they walked away from the lunchroom. "Actually, you could probably go talk to the senior guys too," he continued, talking to Matthew.

"What's their movie about?" Matthew asked. Alfred shrugged.

"Some love story. With drugs. They're gay, y'know."

A gay love story with drugs, huh? Alfred smiled to himself. What a great description. That should be their logline. 'Artie, Francis and Gil proudly present: We Filmed This in a School, a gay love story with drugs! Now with 30% more Alfred!'

…

Yeah.

Alfred's mother was dressed more nicely than he would have expected for coming to meet one of her son's friends. It was weird, and made him a little uneasy. She was wearing earrings. She never wore earrings. And that neckline was something she only brought out on special occasions.

Most of the filming had been done in the back courtyard so Alfred wondered if that's where the three senior boys would be. He held up his finger in a signal to his parent and cousin as he jogged over to the doors, pushing one open into the courtyard. Nobody was there. Well shit. Where else would they be?

"Hold on a sec!" he called, heading down the hallway some more. Maybe they'd be in the gym, or in the English room. He needed to find them before class started and his family had to leave.

"…and he and Russian Mafia guy were passing notes in class, like they were fucking sixth graders," Alfred heard Gilbert's voice enthuse from around the corner. Oh. Well. Maybe he wouldn't need to find them after all.

"You are infinitely juvenile," Arthur said as the three boys came into view. Alfred smiled, waving at them. Francis seemed to notice him, twinkling his fingers in return. Gilbert's grin expanded.

"Hey, Alfie! We were just talking about you!"

"I noticed," Alfred responded. "So, uh, you got a minute? My cousin wants to meet you guys. He's a cool kid, don't worry."

Francis raised a skeptical eyebrow but Gilbert just shrugged. "Sure, whatever." He eyed the other boys, grinning as he swelled up to his full height. "And I believe I speak for the others when I ask you, is he hot?"

Arthur groaned and punched Gilbert in the arm while Francis just sighed sharply. "Hey!" the fair boy defended himself, "I'm just trying to get you guys. See what it's like to wanna fuck guys."

This earned him another punch in the arm, and it was Arthur who spoke next. "We can only stay a minute. We have to pick up a friend from the airport."

"'Kay. It'll only take a second. And, um, my mom kinda wants to talk to just you," Alfred said, gesturing to Arthur.

"Been around, huh?" Gilbert chided.

"Shut it. I've never met his mother."

"Is that them?" Francis asked, pointing past Alfred's shoulder. He turned, nodding as his eyes found his relatives. He beckoned them over with one big arm movement.

"That is one badass sweater-vest," Gilbert said, whistling in appreciation. "Man, Alfie, you were right. He's a cool kid."

"Shut up," Alfred snapped, shooting a warning glance at Gilbert. The white-haired boy raised his hands in defeat.

"Hey," Matthew said as brightly as possible. He adjusted his shirt, cocking his head to the side. Then, slowly, his eyes widened. Alfred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he turned back to the group of older boys. Francis was watching Matthew curiously.

"Francis?" Alfred's cousin asked after a moment, voice thick with disbelief.

"It seems we did meet again, mon cher," Francis said, a light smile of fondness crossing his lips. "It has been a while."

"O-oui," Matthew answered.

"Où est-ce que tu habites, maintenant?" Francis asked, French sounding far more at home coming from his lips than English. Matthew launched into a long explanation of whatever Francis had asked. Alfred's mother was silent, watching Arthur carefully. The senior boy noticed this, extending a hand.

"I'm Arthur," he said cordially. Alfred's mother nodded slowly.

"I know." Alfred's mother took a shaky breath. "Um...could I ask you a few questions?"

Arthur nodded and the two drifted over to the wall. Gilbert looked entirely confused. "What's that all about?"

"I dunno. It seems like Mattie and Francis are going all Frenchie on each other and my mom wants to talk to Artie."

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, I guess that pretty much sums things up."

Alfred's eyes were trained on his mother as she and Arthur spoke. Slowly he saw the tears forming in her eyes, and the surprise coming into Arthur's. Then, they stepped forward and hugged. Gilbert snorted out a laugh but Alfred quickly shut him up.

Then Alfred's mother turned back to her son, sniffling a moment before smiling and beckoning to him. Gilbert saw this and pushed the younger boy forward, nearly tripping him. Alfred just caught his balance and stumbled to his mother and Arthur.

"Alfred..." his mother started, sniffling again. "Do you remember...do you remember this man who came to our house for Christmas one year? He was kind of short and...um..."

"Yeah..." Alfred offered. He did remember something like that, but it was hazy. He felt his heart speed up as his mind ran through all the possibilities. Was his mother getting married again? Did someone die?

"Um...well...when I was seventeen we were dating. And...we were stupid...and I got pregnant."

Alfred's eyes widened, as a whole new set of possibilities ran through his mind. Maybe...maybe his dad wasn't his real father? By the way his mother's eyes were watering it couldn't be anything good.

"His name is John...and I couldn't keep the baby. So...I...God, why is this so hard?" She turned to Arthur, eyes pleading.

"She had to put...the baby...up for adoption," Arthur continued. "And...the baby..." He glanced at Alfred's mother, "...was adopted by John's aunt and uncle." The older boy spoke as if he was telling a bedtime story, very far removed and resigned to the plot.

"So...I have a sister? Or a brother?" Alfred asked, tacking on the last part as he remembered his conversation with Matthew the night before.

"Yeah," his mother said quietly. She closed her eyes suddenly, capturing Alfred in a hug. "And I found him."

Alfred's eyes went wide as realization came over him. "Holy shit," he mananged to get out. He wasn't berated for language this time.

Arthur stepped forward, a bit of a smirk touching the corner of his lip. "Hello, little brother."

Holy shit.

Chris used SOAP OPERA PLOT.

It was I DUNNO. DID IT WORK OR NOT?

Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you a pet hedgehog for you to love and cherish forevermore.