A/N: I don't have much to say about this. This is the point where I either manage to write a satisfactory reconciliation after completely knocking everything down last chapter or I fail the story and all of you. I'm in a long term committed relationship that's had a few fights that it seemed like there was no going back from so hopefully I can pull it off, if I don't then I apologize.
I know my craft is flawed and i'm working on it.
Chapter 21: Only Human
Alfred went home but he refused to go back to work. Calls from the white house caused him to unplug his phone from the wall and turn off his cell. To hell with the election he was too busy nursing his wounds to care. How could Matthew do that to him?
Matthew could knock him down but Alfred knew it was up to him to get up off his knees and carry on.
It was just that getting that strength back might take a little time. He tried not to judge himself too harshly for not being able to brush this off like he could anything else.
This was Matthew after all, his personal Achille's heel. Every hero had a weakness and for Alfred it was the one closest to him.
So that was all Matthew thought of him? Violent, irrational, conceited?
If Matthew really knew him as well as he claimed he did why did it seem that he didn't understand Alfred's feelings at all?
Alfred dropped the tiny marshmallows into his cocoa and paced the floor of his kitchen waiting for the drink to cool.
After the civil war it had been like he was trying to hold together two bitterly divided parts of himself. He'd fought so hard just to protect a union that had been tenuously held together ever since. Secession out of the question it was now like one half continually fought to swallow the other. Both legitimate parts of him, he often felt like the sole bipartisan voice crying out for peace and rationality.
He had been so divided, always so divided, from birth. One faction was always pitted against the other whether it was Loyalists and Patriots, Confederates and Unionists, Republicans or Democrats, all were equally his and there ended their common ground.
In spite of this deep divide his people had managed to create beautiful things, useful things, they'd contributed to the world and defined themselves as a nation. They'd made amazing advances and had much to be proud of.
It wasn't so much that Matthew criticized him that hurt, it was more the way he'd just left him there as if he couldn't think of a single compliment to dull his words. As if he could be summarized by his failings alone.
'Why do I love you?' He'd asked, and for Alfred that had hurt him so much more than the insinuation that no one else would. It was the implication that Matthew couldn't come up with a reason that had burned.
His bravado, his overt and intense patriotism was a necessity when he constantly felt like he was just short of being torn apart, by himself or by the judgment of the outside world. If he didn't believe in himself, how could he expect others to?
Maybe his pride kept people from understanding how deeply he felt his own mistakes, maybe it masked that and led to the kind of image of him that Matthew had painted for him last night? Either way it didn't change the fact that he did feel them, just as sharply as he felt his triumphs even if he didn't proclaim it as loudly.
There was little he could use to define himself more than his deep, deep need to be the hero. To do right and to reach for the highest goal. This had led him astray more than once, it had led him to manic heights convinced of his own morality and infallibility and only in retrospect could he see errors in his judgment when he inevitably came down .
On the other hand, it had led him to beautiful, legitimate triumphs of creativity. It had led him to his brightest moments as well as his darkest but he wouldn't trade it for anything. When you try to be the best, you risk being the worst, but Alfred could never bring himself to be cautious and to play it safe watching his own behavior carefully. If he had then he wouldn't be who he was today and though he felt his flaws acutely he was still proud of who he was, of his people and the things they'd created. The possibility of flying higher than ever before was too tempting to care that his wings might be made of wax. Sometimes he'd had to fall, but he'd also soared higher than ever before.
He could handle criticism from anyone, even from Matthew if he had to, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. When it all became too much sometimes he just wanted to withdraw back to isolation but he'd never meant for that to include being isolated from Canada.
He'd fucked up, England had been right about that, but that rant...it was like Matthew couldn't see any good in him at all, and that stung.
'I will not call England.' Alfred repeated to himself. 'I do not need to call England this is none of his business and I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own.'
Of course he ended up with a phone in his hand.
"Bloody hell." an angry, familiar voice answered. "Do you have any idea how late it is here you gormless yank, or would that involve too much mathematics for you?"
"I think Matthew hates me!" Alfred whined, ignoring the insult.
On the other end of the phone Arthur felt his ire melting away. He couldn't help it when Alfred sounded so much like the distraught little colony he'd once been when his brother had run away from him for playing too rough. He sat up in bed and tried not to be too satisfied with himself. He did love the rare times that Alfred actually came to him like this. It made him feel needed again.
"Matthew does not hate you."
"He does!" Al protested. "He hates me and that's just totally complete bullshit I can't even begin..."
"I assume this means you managed to make a mess of things?"
Alfred ran a hand through his hair and frowned. This was getting fucking old.
"Dude, seriously, can we not blame everything on me tonight? I really can't deal with it right now."
"Ah," Arthur sighed remembering the last time he'd had to calm Matthew down from one of his tirades.
"Went off on you did he? He does that."
"I don't get it!" Alfred complained taking a seat at his kitchen table and sipping his cocoa. "He acts like he knows me so well but yet he can't empathize with me at all?"
"Now don't jump the gun, lad." Arthur replied. "It's probable he just lost his temper. He's a sweet boy, if you give him time he'll come around."
"Thanks Artie," Alfred sighed "You're being really helpful bro. Waiting for him to come around doesn't exactly fix the problem, does it? I mean some of the things he said, I can agree with, some I beat myself up for everyday, others I vehemently disagree with but I just..." Alfred sat down his cocoa and rested his weary head in one hand. "I just don't know. How could he tear me up like that and act like it isn't shit?"
"Don't be a brat." Arthur began with no malice in his voice. His grumpy words more out of habit than anything. "You're the one who woke me up in the wee hours of the morning. Listen, you're both still very young. You have many years of history ahead of you. Don't bemoan the failings of your relationship with Canada as if they were so severe. If you want to hear about a dysfunctional sibling relationship go ahead and call Scotland, I'm sure he can give you an earful on the subject. I don't want to discourage you from examining your flaws, it's something we all need to do in order to better ourselves, but you're not such a bad egg, Alfred. In all the years I've been around I've seen and done worse. You just have to keep growing. Through all the hate and the criticisms you just have to go on trying to do right. It's the only way to get a gentleman out of a pirate. You have a good heart America, even if you have a hard head. I'm confident you'll turn out right. As much as it pains me to admit, you've done all right for yourself. You always were a bright boy if a bit dense. Don't bother about the contradiction. Some of the most honest statements are contradictions."
Alfred blushed. "Oh sh-shut up old man. Jesus, you trying to make me sick or something? I need a coke to wash down all that crap."
"Ingrate." Arthur chuckled. "Now pay attention brat because this is the last piece of advice I'm going to give you and I don't want anymore 4am phone calls. Understand? You and Canada may seem inherently similar but you're not. Trust me, I would know. Canada is completely unique. He's not me, he's not France and he's not you. He has his own unique failings and strengths. No nation gets through their life without blood on their hands but comparatively speaking he's something of an innocent. That's something for him to be proud of or at least grateful for. He's never been afraid to fight, he's followed me to war on more than one occasion and fought valiantly, but he's also never had to make a lot of the decisions your or I have had and I hope he never does. He's good at keeping to himself, he's independent and has much to be proud of in that independence, not just from some foreign power but from anyone's idea of who he ought to be or what he ought to want. He manages his affairs well and gets along with just about everyone. This is why it's easier for him to judge than it is for him to empathize sometimes, you see? He hasn't made the mistakes we've made. Because when it comes down to it Alfred,"
and here Arthur sighed.
"You're more like I was in my youth than I would wish on anyone. Things are different because you're growing up in a different time with different values and different technology but I can still see that same dangerous glint of invincibility in your eyes. The same hunger. You're on top of the world and that comes with some justified pride but what you don't understand, what you're too young to understand yet, is that these things are ephemeral. I'm speaking from experience. Let your fire cool to quite resolution, focus on building yourself up at home and you'll get through anything. Keep your pride, remember your strengths, hold your head high and go have a long, serious talk. If you can manage to sit still that long. Now," Arthur began to wind up his monologue.
"I'm going back to sleep. Keep calm and carry on. England out."
With that he hung up leaving Alfred sitting at his kitchen table shaking his head and laughing softly.
If England could do this, could come back from all his regrets, all the shadows of his past and his empire days then he could sure as hell get through this little fit of the blues and remember who he was.
He would never give up. He would continue fighting to reconcile the dueling voices and to do what was best for his country. He would change, grow, and retain the characteristics he was so proud of while ruthlessly cutting away the bad just as he had always striven to do.
He was America the fucking brave and he wasn't going to lose the person who meant the most to him in the world without a fight. If they could get over the revolution, over 1812, then some petty misunderstandings, disagreements, and possible anger management issues on Matthew's part were not going to do them in. As far as international relations went there's were actually pretty fucking awesome and he aimed to maintain them.
He wouldn't let his enthusiasm be dimmed by some harsh words, and he wouldn't give up on Matthew because of them either.
He had a plan. A completely epic, totally heroic plan that would put Hollywood to shame.
He nearly knocked over his cocoa in his eagerness to plug in the kitchen phone and dial the pentagon.
"Yo," He gasped into the receiver when someone picked up on the other line. "It's America. You guys got those beavers? I need 'em."
….
Back at his cabin Matthew had made a pot of tea in an attempt to calm his nerves. He'd warned himself not to cross that line between justifiable anger and cruelty. He'd known he was walking along a delicate border and he'd just barely slipped across it. At some point he'd gone from airing legitimate grievances to lashing out and trying to hurt his twin and he knew where. It would've started building up with the name calling and come to a climax around the time he'd accused him of being completely unlovable.
He slumped back in his arm chair and shook his head. "Way to fuck up, Williams, way to fuck up."
He doubted that he would be able to take him back if Alfred ever insinuated he was the only one who would have him. So how could he expect his twin to do any differently?
Of course that was probably because when he said that he wasn't just tapping into one of Alfred's many insecurities, he was tapping into one of his own biggest fears.
'You're not unlovable Al,' he talked to him in his head. 'and I'm not the only one who'd have you. Fuck. Sometimes I feel so invisible and you're always so confident and I...I was just speaking out of my own hurt.'
He sat there replaying in his head all the ways he could've salvaged last night. He could've stopped himself short of that one hateful line, he could've stayed calm and said what he needed to say without malice, he could've at least stopped when Alfred started to sob.
He could've comforted him, remembered why he loved him, and they could've talked it out calmly.
He felt like an ass. Sure he believed a lot of what he'd said simply needed to be said but he knew he didn't have to do it the way he'd done it. He'd lost his cool and now Alfred was gone and Matthew had no idea how he felt about last night. Was he angry? Was he hurt? Would he speak to him again? When?
Would an apology be enough?
Yes, they'd been through worse, through so so much worse but it felt a little different now since they'd become lovers, as if they were interacting on a more human level than ever before.
As electricity had been restored to his area that morning he decided to turn on the TV and see how things were progressing with the damage control after the storm. Hopefully it would take his mind off of Alfred until he was in a position to actually go and talk to him. There was no point in beating himself up about it. He and Al just needed to have a long, serious talk when they were both level headed.
He clicked over to the news and had to steady himself before he dropped his teacup.
'This afternoon the American military gifted Canada with 100 genetically engineered titanium-toothed super beavers to assist in clean up of this weekend's unexpected storm. Apparently the beavers are capable of plowing through sheets of solid ice and reducing entire trees to mulch within minutes.
Opinions polls indicate that the Canadian public is deeply confused by this gesture. Many people polled assumed it was some kind of misguided joke. Debbie in Saskatoon wrote in saying "It's obviously some kind of strange prank. Canada and beavers. Ha ha. Get new material please." . Others see it as essentially goodhearted if odd. Bill in New Brunswick where the beavers are already being put to use says "They're very effective and kind of cute if you squint." Animal rights groups in both countries are demanding inquiry into how the beavers were created and their treatment during the process. Meanwhile the government is in a tizzy over where to house the beavers once the clean up is complete and how their maintenance will be paid for. The RCMP is staunchly against sharing their stables with the flat tailed beasts. The commissioner is quoted as saying "Fuck no. We don't want them." Environmentalists are in an uproar over the possible damage the beavers could cause to Canadian wildlife if not carefully controlled. The overall consensus is that this gift, and the conception of the beavers in the first place, was a very bad idea but urm, thanks anyway America?'
"Alfred you ridiculous bastard." Matthew smacked his forehead repeatedly. What the hell was he going to do with those beavers? Alfred was just going to have to take them back, that's what!
"Some boyfriends give you herpes," Matthew muttered to himself. "mine gives me potentially ecosystem destabilizing super beavers. I really don't know which is worse."
He reached up and felt a tear forming in the corner of his eye. The hysterical laughter he'd felt form at Alfred's mad, childish plans turned in his throat and shattered into a broken sob.
His Alfred, his crazy Alfred, so full of dreams. So full of innovations. Whatever could be said about Al, good or bad, he was one of a kind.
'One of a beautiful, shining kind.' Matthew muttered as he wiped tears from his eyes.
He never had a dream he didn't follow even if sometimes those dreams seemed to fall out of Saturday morning cartoons.
Alfred was kind of like a big kid. A cross between a genius and a ditz, always full of smiles and restless, pent up creative energy that threatened to burst out of him at any moment.
'Matthew' he remembered Alfred turning to him one warm summer night not too many decades ago as they gazed up at the stars. 'I'm going to the moon.'
He'd laughed at the luminescent smile on Alfred's face 'No way!'
'I'm serious!' Alfred had protested, growing more excited as he spoke. 'I'm doing it dude. It's going to be awesome. You'll see!'
And he did. And it was.
Just as years before he'd told him he was going to fly and the Wright brothers came along to make amazing advances in aviation.
He was entitled to those superman pajamas.
Alfred made life fun. He brightened up his world with his antics and his enthusiasm and above all his dreams. His rambling, colorful, vibrant dreams that he loved to make reality with those calloused hands that Matthew knew so well. If he never got to hold those hands again, he didn't know what he'd do.
Matthew had other friends, other brothers, people who loved him and visited him and enriched his life but for better or worse he only had one twin and in countries even more than in humans that relationship was rare.
He only had one Alfred.
One Alfred who he'd completely cut down last night and was back on his feet today, refusing to be knocked down and apparently hopefully refusing to give up on him.
Waiting for him was excruciating. Matthew knew he was coming.
"Alfred." Matthew sighed and wrung his hands.
Catching sight of himself in his mirror he slowed down, took a deep breath and reminded himself he was nearly 400 years old and they'd been through way worse.
"Come on Williams," He chided his mirror-self. "This is nothing! Remember signing the Treaty of Ghent? How awkward, how painful it was to see him then? But it was okay. We moved on."
When the tell-tell knocking finally came Matthew nearly jumped out of his skin.
Alfred was standing there in his favorite bomber jacket, a rare serious look on his face.
"Hey bro. I guess you know we need to talk."
Matthew bit his lip. "I know Al. I lost my temper. I'm so sorry."
Alfred took his hand as he moved into the cabin. "It's going to be fine."
"Is it?" Matthew queried.
Alfred frowned. "I think so. I mean...yeah, of course dude."
Matthew tittered about as Alfred took a seat on the sofa.
"Would you like some tea? I have some syrup. I know you like it sweet."
Alfred waved him off. "Nah it's cool."
Matthew rubbed the back of his neck compulsively and took a seat in the armchair facing Alfred.
"Okay. Alright. Let's do this, eh? Do you want to go first or should I?"
"I'll start." Alfred grinned. "You know I like to talk."
Matthew laughed and tried to let it calm him but it didn't quite make it to his heart.
"So I was reading this er, relationship book Francis gave me and I think it's best if I start by admitting my own faults and then go from there..."
"You were reading?" Matthew gasped and then quickly added "um, reading a relationship book I mean?" 'Shit shit shit.' He swore internally. 'Don't fuck this up. Don't fuck this up.'
Alfred took it in stride. "Duh. I mean, I don't have a lot of experience with this, do I? I've always been pretty happily self-contained, you know? I've been busy with my hobbies and my goals and my own things."
Matthew nodded and waited for Al to go on.
"So I guess first I need to say I'm sorry for blowing you off. You're always so quiet and patient and I guess I just assumed you'd always be there for me and I didn't think about the fact that you'd need anything in return which was really stupid of me because I mean, duh, you have needs too and I guess I should be more sensitive to your moods and um, stuff. Kiku always goes on about "reading the mood" I guess I need to try and read your moods more..."
Alfred curled his feet up under him and leaned against the arm of the couch.
"but dude, you know me, you know I'm not good at that kind of thing so if we're going to do this I'm going to need you to be clearer about things. Like if you try to drop me hints or whatever because you don't want to come out with it, sorry bro, but it's just not going to work. Tell me if something is bothering you. Like hit me over the head with the phonebook about it. I'm not going to get mad at you."
Alfred sighed and brought his eyes level with Matthew's.
"And most importantly Matt don't ever do what you did to me last night again. I can't handle it. It hurts way too much and the worst part is I know at some point, you wanted it to hurt. I just can't take it when you do things like that to me, especially now. I trust you Matthew, more than anyone, because your opinion actually matters to me I will listen to you as best I can, just be patient with me. Don't lose your temper. Don't hurt me because fuck you know me too well. It's too easy for you to break me apart and I need to trust you not to abuse that. I need to know I can put my insecurities in your hands and you won't use them against me. I'm not saying you can't tell me when you think I'm wrong, that you can't criticize me, you can, just not like that. Okay? Never like that."
Matthew nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He'd never meant to do that to Alfred. His Alfred. He'd just snapped. He never wanted to hurt him like that again.
"I won't. I'm sorry Al, I'm so sorry. We countries, our land gives us much of our character but it is our people who give us life and in the end we're almost too human for our own good. We make mistakes, we have flaws. We hurt each other intentionally and unintentionally and the best we can do is refuse to do the former and try to minimize how often we do the latter. I know I had good reasons to be upset with you but I crossed a line when it came to how I expressed it. Alfred I...I love you. Please don't ever think that I don't. If I'm ever upset or frustrated with you, that doesn't change that. "
"There was truth in some of what you said Matthew," Alfred conceded. "I know that, but a lot of it was just you speaking out of anger."
Matthew tentatively crossed the room and sat next to his brother. "I know Al, I didn't mean what I said about no one wanting you, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I lost my temper. I'm sorry I kept my feelings inside until they exploded. I'm sorry I wasn't more clear."
Alfred wrapped Matthew in his arms with a cautiousness he was not usually capable of, as if afraid he would disappear if grasped too tight.
"I know you are Matthew, I do stupid shit when I'm mad too, but sweetie you've got to understand, You're the person whose opinion matters most to me, you're the person with the most power in the world to hurt me. You've got to be careful with that. I promise to listen to you from now on when you have a legitimate complaint but baby don't ever say things you don't mean."
He brushed a stray lock of Matthew's hair from beside his face. "because I will believe them."
'I could believe the boldest lies if you said them' Alfred thought to himself 'because you're like an angel to me and I love you and I romanticize you and maybe that's stupid of me when we're all so imperfect, but I can't help it...'
Matthew took Alfred's hand in his and caressed it gently with his fingertips. Flipping it over he traced the lines of his palm as if dragging a highlighter across the neatly typed sentences of a history book.
"In our centuries of history it's not like this is the worst conflict we've ever come back from. I suppose it's just a little different now that we're lovers. It..it brings a certain human element to things, doesn't it?
Alfred made a soft hum of consent and rested his head on Matthew's shoulder.
"We'll always get through it." Alfred assured him. "Whatever it is we'll always get through it. If England and I can come back around to being allies after the revolution then I'm sure we can overcome anything that tries to divide us."
"North America forever, eh?" Matthew mumbled against Alfred's lips before claiming them in a kiss.
Passionate, deep and needy, they tried to express all the things they were both still too raw from their conflict to say bluntly.
When the kiss broke Alfred had regained his vibrant smile.
"Things are going to change for the better, Mattie. I'll pay more attention to you, you'll be clearer for me. Things will be good."
Matthew nodded. "I will. I know I should've said something sooner, given you more of a chance."
Alfred smiled. "and I'm sorry I took you for granted Mattie."
"Oh Al," Matthew hugged him tightly around the waist. "I'm sorry I took you for granted too, because I did, Al, I really did. Please don't ever forget how wonderful you are. You make me smile and laugh when no one else can and for as much as I tease you about being a dolt you've done some really, really amazing things Alfred, some shockingly amazing things, and to be honest I find your ditziness kind of, okay, really cute but don't think for a minute that I actually believe you're stupid Alfred because I know better than that. "
"Ah, Can it Canada!" Alfred blushed and rubbed his eyes, which were damp this time with happiness, on Matthew's sweater.
They lay there for a long time in silence, content just to touch each other and to reaffirm that they could. They both knew there would be other fights, other days when they felt like falling apart, but maybe now they would be better equipped to deal with them.
Finally Matthew propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at the other nation sprawled out below him on the couch. "Seriously though America, you're not sticking me with these beavers. They will wreck such shop on the taiga."
As Alfred sat up to argue Matthew couldn't hide a hopeful smile that slowly things would go back to normal.
"Pssh! You're just jealous you didn't think of super beavers first!"
A/N: So next chapter will involve more making up as the boys go about their night. I know they still have a lot of talking to do. I'm sorry I made you wait so long for this. I really wanted to update earlier (because of how jarring last chapter was) but it just wasn't happening. Thank you all so so so so much for your thoughtful reviews. I wish I could articulate better how much each one means to me and I just really hope that I can bring my vision for this fanfic to fruition somehow in a way that everyone is fulfilled. I tried to interject a little humor there with the beavers plus I just think that's the kind of thing Alfred would do...