Ch. 28

Arthur was waiting for a response. Even though he only made a vague comment, he was going to wait for Alfred to answer, because they both knew that it was really a question.

Alfred quickly tried to weigh his options. He figured playing the ignorance card was probably a bad move, but he couldn't come up with anything else when he was standing in the lion's den with Arthur looking at him in such a way.

"We wouldn't have come here together if we hadn't made up," he responded, shrugging and doing his usual 'shove hands in pockets because he's 'oh-so-casual' and unfazed' move.

Arthur rubbed the back of his index finger just under his lips, looking down at the floor thoughtfully before coming back up with a sharp green glare that almost knocked Alfred physically backwards with the force of its fury.

Cocking a smirk that displayed the exact opposite of any sort of pleasure, he went on in a voice filled with hollow humor, "Of course. Long trip was it? Even if you two had been seeing each other before hand, being stuck in a car together still must have been troublesome. But, I suppose that type of situation wouldn't bother you as much as it would bother me. You're so forgiving, after all."

Alfred felt sick. Bile rolled around in his stomach unpleasantly and he couldn't regulate his breathing. With every second passing that Arthur stared him down, Alfred felt an increased pressure in his lungs as his heart seemed to stutter and stop at random. He was sure he was on the verge of tears again, except he knew Arthur wouldn't be as merciful with him as Matt if he started crying.

Like the mouse caught by the cat, Alfred didn't want to let Arthur toy with him any further. "Just say what your problem is." He had a moment to revel in how strong his voice had sounded before the stoicism that Arthur's face had dropped into had him nervous again.

He firmly planted his palms on the table and stood up again. Keeping their eyes locked, he strode over briskly as Alfred remained mesmerized by the fluid movement. Stopping almost a foot away, Arthur twitched his lip downward unpleasantly, readying himself for something.

"You're sleeping with him." There was no room for argument in his tone.

"No, actually, I'm not," Alfred argued anyway. He was satisfied with Arthur being wrong, even if another part of him felt regretful that he wasn't guilty.

"I'm not an idiot. I saw how you two looked at each other. You may think I'm some heartless monster, Alfred, but I know that type of relationship when I see it."

"So what?" Not Alfred's best remark, but he was so angry he could hardly see straight. The feeling was somewhat nostalgic. Like they were picking up where they had left off all those years ago. He even dared to think it was cathartic in its own way.

"So-so you're doing this to get back at me!" Arthur snapped, shoulders hunching up like a scared cat's.

"Not everything's I do is about you." Alfred stooped slightly, so that they were more at eye level. So that Arthur could better see how pissed he was.

"No, but you think everything's about you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Alfred started to yell, taking the time to briefly notice how quickly their argument had devolved.

"You're a selfish brat who gives no consideration to others," Arthur hissed, sounding unusually upset, even for him.

Alfred actually agreed. He knew he had made far too many self involved decisions to even begin to disagree. But hearing the accusation so resentfully from Arthur of all people sparked a contrariness that smothered his hurt feelings.

"How the hell am I selfish?"

"You've turned your back on every single person in this family. How else am I supposed to see you?"

"Oh, like you're a saint? You just think that because I didn't do the things you wanted me to. You're not happy unless everyone's nodding along with you like a puppet!"

"How dare you! I've done nothing but take care of you, and offer you a future-"

"I didn't want your future, I wanted mine! There was no way I was going to let you trap me in that stupid business firm-"

"It's a family business. I just wanted to pass it on-"

"You're not my family!"

The noise was a very loud and fleshy pop. Alfred thought for a moment that it sounded much worse than it felt, until the skin of his cheek stopped tingling and the sting set in. Arthur's hand was crossed over his chest and suspended in the air, the fingers still stiffened and the palm facing away.

He looked angry, his eyes narrowed to a snakelike impression. Then their intensity faded, and his face went the palest Alfred had ever seen.

Alfred didn't say anything, a little shocked even though that was most certainly not the first time he'd been hit. Hell, he got socked in the jaw a few times before because some dude didn't like the way he was looking at him or thought he was too smiley or some other bullshit.

But Arthur had never come anywhere near having hit him before, and a voice in his head helpfully reminded Alfred that he had never said anything so callous before either. Not even when he had picked up and left, did he ever consider Arthur as anything but family in some capacity. No matter how upset with each other they were.

They both stood there frozen like they were posing for a daguerrotype processed photo.

Arthur eventually lowered his arm, blinking while his brain caught up with what had just happened. Alfred had already come to his own conclusion, though, and he had to do something before all of Francis' efforts were put to waste.

"I... I'll be back," he muttered distantly. Arthur looked confused by his response, but said nothing.

Yes, Alfred had to leave as soon as he could, before he said anything else that would end up ruining everything. Leaving Arthur there, he wandered toward the front door without much of a plan of what he was going to do once he was outside.

"Alfred?"

He whipped around at the sound of the small voice at the stairs. Matt was standing a few steps below the landing, hunching over to peer down better. He felt a stab in his chest looking at the troubled and confused expression on his brother's face, and then he felt the knife twist when he noticed Francis hovering worriedly behind him and looking at him as if one of them was about to die.

At that point, Alfred was beyond exhausted from feeling guilty all the time, yet more built in his chest against his will.

"I was just going to go for a walk and cool off," he told Matt, getting choked up again. Matt walked the rest of the way down the stairs and continued until they were properly facing each other, looking him in the eye with what Alfred swore was disappointment.

"You said something similar six years ago. What's different this time?"

Alfred swallowed heavily, gripping at the knob and eyes roving Matthew's face for the correct answer to the question despite suspecting there wasn't one.

Soon his mouth was responding before his head had time to filter anything. "I want to come back."

"But will you?"

"I will," he promised and then turned to Francis, who had followed Matt down the stairs, with even more determination, "I'll be back." Francis seemed shocked, but nodded.

Knowing that he understood, Alfred was putting on his coat and out the door.

Merely a beat in time afterward did Arthur come out of the kitchen, looking lost in his own home.

"What did you do?" Francis asked venomously, leveling Arthur his most impressive glare and reaching the end of the landing to join Matthew.

"What did I do? You're one to talk, this is all your doing," Arthur fought back. Francis darkly pulled his brows down in confusion before his face relaxed with the sudden realization that hit him. The array of emotions ebbing on and off his face would have been comical had the mood not been so tense. Sorting himself out, Francis set his jaw determinedly and played up his height as much as he physically could.

"You're just going to stand there?" He deflected, the argument Arthur wanted to have needing to be saved for another time.

Arthur clicked his tongue. "Isn't that what you're doing? Why don't you go after him? You brought him here."

"It's not my place," Francis answered simply.

"So you're trying to wash your hands of any responsibility in this?"

Matt looked between the two desperately, a subtle shiver running down his spine at the sight of Francis' triumphant grin at Arthur's accusation.

"Not in the least," he answered coolly. Arthur's eyes were trained on him in bewildered outrage. Francis placed a hand firmly on his shoulder, scratching at his stubble covered chin and looking at Arthur contemplatively. "He will return to me, one way or another. It's you I'm not so sure about."

Arthur was obviously disgusted. Scrunching his face up, he sharply jabbed Francis in the side with his left fist. Francis doubled over with little resistance, supporting himself on the wall and letting his ears inform him that the front door had indeed opened and closed once more.

"Are you okay?" Matt asked worriedly, looking quite ashen.

Francis smiled at him reassuringly. "Don't worry, it was a fairly weak hit considering what he can do. And I can't say it was entirely undeserved."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Matthew asked, his worry instantly placated and leaving him free to start making demands.

Francis sighed, figuring it was all going to come out eventually. "Hmm, yes. I suppose it would be best if I broke the news and not your brother at this point. He has no finesse or subtlety," he said mostly to himself. Then he nodded at nothing, reaffirming his decision.

"Come on, dear, I'll make you some cocoa and explain everything," Francis suggested gently, leading Matt by the hand into the kitchen and mentally rehearsing what he would say.

"Do you really think cocoa's appropriate right now?" Matt shyly protested, knowing that Francis wasn't really listening to him when he started getting everything out anyway.


A/N: I actually feel really bad for Arthur. I would have totally freaked had I been in the same situation. Then again, I don't have that 'British calm.'