"Papa, please! Tomorrow is Christmas! He…He can't be out alone on Christmas…Please, at least let him stay until after New Years…"

"Matthew, he's a madman! It won't be long until he's hurt you!"

"No…He's gentle…and sweet…"

"That's what he wants you to think. It's bad enough you went through the trouble of freezing yourself trying to look for him, you could have gotten killed!"

Lars sighed as he sat up in his bed. The argument between the two just outside his room grew louder with each moment. Madman…Well, he isn't wrong, Lars thought. There's no use trying to argue, Matthew. I'm not worth it. He brushed his hand against the bandage wrapped around his head. "I guess I deserved that," he murmured mutedly to himself.

"What has he ever done to me or you, Papa?!" Matthew cried. "Please! At least let him explain himself!"

Francis crossed his arms over his chest sternly. His foot tapped repetitively against the ground. Lars' story was still a mystery…he really had no idea what he did. Perhaps he took Antonio's advice a little harshly? Francis grumbled under his breath. "He needs to come clean. I want to know what really happened."

"H-He'll tell us," Matthew nodded, clinching his own hands. "He'll tell us."

Matthew eased the door open and poked his head inside. The moment he saw Lars was already sitting up in his bed, he rushed to his side. "How are you feeling?" he asked Lars with a motherly tone. "Are you thirsty? Here, drink this water."

"Um, Matt, I-"

Matthew insisted a small glass of water upon Lars' lips, holding his head up gently with his other hand. Lars submitted and took a few small gulps of the ice-cold water. He pushed the glass away and lowered his head shamefully. "…I…have a lot of explaining to do," he said. "I know you've both heard some…strange things about me…I'll set it straight if you'll listen."

Matthew sat beside him on the bed while Francis stood against the wall, arms still crossed and giving Lars a suspicious glare. "Go on then," he urged.

"…Um…" He glanced at Matthew worriedly and guiltily. But Matthew reassured him with a kind smile and a stroke of his cheek. "Just start wherever you think you should," he said softly, ready to listen with an open heart. Lars nodded.

"I had been living here for about three months," he began. "I…had a set plan, you know, I bought a house, got a decent job. When the time was right and I had earned enough money, I was going to apply for college. And…at the time, everything was…going well. Until…" He paused. He looked up at the two, feeling their eyes pierce his body.

"Until what?" Matthew asked tenderly, stroking his arm.

"Until…I met that group that was so kind to me last night…" He brushed his fingers over the bandage wrapped around his head. "I got laid off my job…my art wasn't selling well…and I was desperate. Being the…ignorant kid I was…I believed them when they told me I could get money fast." He turned away from Francis, unable to meet his gaze without showing shame and guilt. "I…became a drug dealer."

To not say Matthew was disappointed would be a lie. Of course he was. He was even a little angry with him. To have been so close to Lars for this long, and him keeping such a big secret from him, it perturbed him. His hand fell from Lars' arm as he looked down.

Expecting as much, Lars sighed. "…I'm sorry I never told you…especially from the beginning."

"Well, why would you want to tell someone that?" Matthew asked. "'Hi, I'm Lars, and I was a drug dealer.' Not a very good way to introduce yourself." He smiled sadly at Lars with understanding.

"Yeah…Guess your right…"

"So," Francis growled. "You're a drug dealer."

"Was," Lars corrected. "I was. Not anymore." He scratched the back of his neck. "Of course…some drugs are legal where I come from so…I didn't see anything really wrong with it…"

"That still doesn't explain the rumors of you 'going mad'," Francis stated under his breath. "Or what happened to you last night."

"Papa…" Matthew mumbled, growing embarrassed and angered over his father's rash words.

Lars placed a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "It's alright…I understand his concern." As Lars began to explain how he realized his mistakes, Francis' scornful glare eased into an interested stare. To admit to your faults was a brave quality. Francis listened with an optimistic heart.

Once Lars had left the gang, he tried his hardest to stay clean of drugs, which worked. And while he did work and sold paintings every so often, it still wasn't enough for him to live on. He explained in vivid detail of his stress at the time…and the loneliness he suffered. He chose to isolate himself and refused to make friends. Bella, his sister back in Europe, cared only enough of him to send him money from time to time to help him. Not once has he seen his sister since he left, and his parents were out of the question, obviously.

To fill his void, he resorted to liquor, rather than drugs. He felt it would be safer, in some way. His thoughts weren't straight at the time.

"As it turns out," Lars continued, "I'm…not a very nice drunk. I'm not sane. I'd…go on a sort of rampage in my own home. That's…when the rumors began about me being crazy…" Thinking himself only as a disgrace, he hung his head low. I understand if you change your mind about me, Matthew, he thought. I would, too…I just…don't know what I'll do without you.

Every word Lars spoke was the truth and Matthew knew it. They weren't lies, they weren't fabricated. He could tell when Lars was lying, and he had full confidence that he was telling the truth. Matthew gazed up at his father, pleading for reconsideration. "Papa," he begged. "…I still love him…Nothing's changed. He's still Lars." Matthew rested a loving hand on Lars' chest. "My Lars."

"…You…do…?" Lars murmured doubtfully. He smiled tiredly. "…Thank you…Matt…"

"Please, Papa, he's deserved a second chance…" He frowned at his Francis. "You owe it to Lars. You're the one who kicked him out. And if you had listened to him about him not wanting the wine, he wouldn't have taken it!"

Francis was shocked that his soft-spoken and shy son snapped at him in such a way. He knew Matthew never stood up for himself, let alone someone else. Ever since he met Lars, Matthew seemed to be in such better spirits. To take his happiness from him now would devastate him. "Perhaps," Francis said, "I do owe…Lars an apology…I rushed to conclusions and…assumed the worst of you. And while I'm not very fond of your past choices, I do respect your honesty."

"So…he can come back, right?" Matthew asked eagerly.

Francis thought for a moment longer before eventually nodding. "Oui. I think he can stay. I just wish he had explained himself sooner." He looked at Lars with slight dismay.

"I'm sorry. I…didn't think you would listen. I was scared you wouldn't-"

Matthew interrupted his apology with an ecstatic hug, grinning brightly. "Thank you, Papa! He'll never do it again, I promise!"

"Matt, I'm not a pet…," Lars grumbled, rolling his eyes. A bolt of pain shot through his broken body, but he accepted the hug.

Francis chuckled softly. "Well, I suppose I'll leave you two to yourselves. I'll be back later…Get well soon, Lars. And thank you for your honesty." He nodded to the couple and took his leave, shutting the door behind him softly.

Sighing , Lars looked down at Matthew, still hugging him with a loving, yet painful grip. "I'm glad everything worked out," Lars told him.

Suddenly Matthew began to tremble. He hid his face into Lars' chest. Soft cries bled into Lars' hospital gown.

Worry overcame Lars. He pulled Matthew away and looked him in the eye. "Matt? Matt what's wrong? …Matthew?"

He lifted his head, appearing completely heartbroken and destroyed. "I-I'm so sorry, Lars," he murmured, resting his hand on the bandage around Lars' head. "Th-this is my fault…"

"This isn't your fault," Lars insisted. "If anyone's to blame, it's me."

Matthew shook his head. "No…I could have…prevented this, I-I…" He whimpered and rubbed at his bloodshot eyes. More than likely, he hadn't slept since the night before Lars left. "I saw you…get…beaten up by those guys…A-And I didn't do anything to stop them!" His breathing became stressed as he poured his heart out. "I-I could have done something, anything! But…I just…watched…I was so scared, I couldn't move…" He lifted his head, guilty tears pouring from his eyes. "I heard y-you scream for help…And I did n-nothing…"

Matthew flinched as he felt gentle fingers brush his cheeks, wiping away the tears. Lars smiled understandingly at him as they gazed at each other. "I'm glad you did nothing," he told him. "Because you would have ended up like this, too. Then where would I be?"

Lars' warm chuckle melted the guilt in Matthew's heart. That was a very good point, because, in the end, Matthew did save him. Tucking away the remorse for his actions, Matthew nodded. "Yeah…"

Their lips joined together in a long awaited kiss, the anxiety of separation slipping from their minds.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE:

SO SORRY, guys! I know it's bee forever since I posted a chapter! I'll work harder on it, I promise! School has just been a distraction, followed by my (small) social life. This fic has just slipped my mind so many times. And I wanted this chapter to be great so it took me a while. Again, I apologize. No, the story isn't over, and yes, I may be including some…ahem… "naughty" moments later on. Goodbye! Please REVIEW!***