Oh my god guys. I am so so so sooooo sorry.

I had knee surgery. No butt f-ing lie. Knee surgery.

I fricking have to wear this brace now that goes from my ankle to my thigh for like, six weeks. I WALK LIKE A CRIPPLE.

It's done things, like delay my posting of this story. Which pisses me off very much.

So I hope this chapter isn't too weird, and hopefully I'll be able to get more chapters out soon.

Enjoy!

"It's just weird…when you've had your friends with you all your life, you almost take it for granted."

Matthew looked up at Gilbert. His voice was getting quieter, and he had to strain to hear him.

"And then when they've all gone, you don't realize how…when you…"

He felt shock stir in his stomach and his heart thump against his chest. Tears shone in Gilbert's eyes, and just then, he looked so vulnerable, Matthew felt himself go weak.

"It's fucking insane how lonely you can get." Gilbert's voice cracked at the final word and he buried his head in his hands. "Jesus…"

Matthew, unsure of what he was exactly doing, reached forward and wrapped his hand around Gilbert's, gently pulling it away from his face. Gilbert removed his other hand and looked at him, his eyes dull and sorrowful.

"It is a bit funny though…"

Matthew weaved his fingers through Gilbert's, his eyes never leaving his face.

"Maybe this was all supposed to happen so that I could meet you."

Gilbert was just inches from his face now, and he placed a hand on the back of Matthew's neck, pulling him closer.

"I wonder."

Matthew only sighed just seconds before they kissed, their hands were already traveling underneath each other's clothing, trying to search for more.

Matthew's eyelids fluttered open and he stared at the ceiling of a room that he had never seen before. Only the sunlight spilling in through the windows lit the room. The windows were open and a cold breeze flowed in, making the long curtains billow. Sitting up slowly, he clutched his forehead, groaning as it throbbed rhythmically. He was lying on a large bed with only a small blanket that someone must have thrown over him. His shirt was incredibly wrinkled, and on the floor he saw Gilbert's grey fleece jacket, which he must have thrown off the night before.

Across the bed sat a dresser, and three doors. The dresser was adorn with framed pictures, too far away for him to make out without his glasses, and on instinct he reached across the bed to the nightstand, and was shocked to find that they actually were lying there, on top of a book that had been dog eared too many times to count.

Putting on his glasses, he turned on the light by the bedside table and slowly got out of bed, stumbling over to the dresser. There were many pictures of a blonde haired kid with wide blue eyes, and others of a white haired kid, staring up into the camera with those familiar blood red eyes.

This must be Gilbert and Ludwig's parents' bedroom, he thought to himself and blushed embarrassed. How he ended up sleeping in there was beyond him, and he figured the best thing he could do now was just leave before anyone saw him and asked what he was doing.

Shuffling over to the closest door, he opened it to only see it was a walk in closet, piled high with racks of clothing. He closed the door, opened the second one only to find that it was a master bathroom, looking as if it had never once been touched. Sighing, Matthew walked across the room to the third door, and figuring third time being the charm, opening it to see that it indeed led out to the hallway.

He walked out slowly, trying to find the staircase. He had only ever been up on the second floor in Gilbert's house once before, and even then, he couldn't really remember where he had been.

Rounding a corner, he found the staircase, and as he walked down it slowly, his head throbbing with every step. He could hear the quiet sound of someone strumming a guitar and singing.

He carefully maneuvered his way cautiously into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. Peeking in through the doorway, he saw Elizaveta sitting on a barstool with her legs up against the counter while Gilbert stood by, holding a glass of water and looking as if he had hardly gotten any sleep at all. Elizaveta wasn't really singing, more like humming as she stopped every now and then to tune her guitar and start playing a few more chords.

Uncomfortable, Matthew was unsure of how he was going to greet himself, when the floorboards underneath his feet creaked and Gilbert looked over at him almost instantly.

"Well hey," Gilbert grinned, "Look who finally woke up."

"Took you long enough." Elizaveta commented, putting down her guitar. She was wearing only a blue windbreaker and running shorts, her hair was now loose brown curls that hung down her back in a loose ponytail. "We were beginning to think you were dead."

Matthew smiled nervously, his eyes never quite leaving Gilbert's face. The last thing he could really remember from last night was stumbling after Gilbert in the cold, dread and surprise feeling up every part of his body, making him weary and tired. He was really wondering what had all happened last night, but felt like now wasn't the right time to ask. It felt too…personal.

"Good morning…" He said quietly after a moments pause.

"Morning? More like afternoon. It's almost one, you know that right?" Gilbert walked over to the fridge. "Do you want anything to drink? We have some seltzer water."

Matthew grimaced and shook his head. "No thanks. Um…where is everyone?"

"They all went home. I don't think they'd want to stay a second night after everything that went down yesterday." Elizaveta explained just as Gilbert elbowed her and glared at her warningly, to which she only shrugged staring up at him with big, innocent eyes.

Matthew shifted uncomfortably. So everyone had already gone home? It felt weird, like an out of body experience, like last night had never happened.

Elizaveta reached across the counter and plucked an apple from a fruit basket. "If you had woken up sooner, you could have helped us clean up. This whole place was a mess." She said gleefully. "I want to know who got the pizza. There were pizza boxes everywhere."

"Probably Lars." Gilbert said, "Smoking all that weed probably gives him the munchies."

Elizaveta giggled, "Or maybe it was you and—"

"Hey, you shut up." Gilbert snapped and began trying to cover her mouth with his hand. Elizaveta shrieked and started dodging away, trying to fend him off with the half eaten apple.

Matthew watched the scene before him, feeling left out. He had a headache, and not only that, but he knew that something—though he wasn't sure what—had happened last night, something important between him and Gilbert that the other two were hiding from him.

But of course, he couldn't think of such things when he was with them, considering Elizaveta seemed to be able to detect a mood change a mile away.

"Your boyfriend looks sad." Elizaveta said, pointing at Matthew.

"Who, me?" Matthew asked, looking up in surprise.

"Who, him? He's always like that." Gilbert smirked, obviously teasing Matthew. Matthew only sneered at Gilbert as if to say, 'Yeah, real funny.'

"Come on, Matthew! Cheer up!" Elizaveta exclaimed, placing the half eaten apple down on the counter. She raised her hands above her head and began clapping them together as she sang, "He's got the whole world, in his hands~!"

Gilbert was watching Elizaveta with a perplexed expression on his face before saying, "Jesus, what did they do to you at that school?"

Matthew tried to not be amused by how childish the two were acting. He was quite entertained by Elizaveta singing, for she had a wonderful voice. He no longer felt so left out anymore.

"Hey, Gilbert!" she said, suddenly cutting herself off from singing, "Let's tell Matthew that joke about two dimes and a nickel!"

"Goddamn, no! You tell him that joke and I'll kill you." Gilbert said warningly.

"What joke?" Matthew asked, curious.

"No. Don't ask. You don't want to know the joke. You really don't. You'll regret it forever."

Matthew looked at Gilbert. He thought that maybe he was joking, but when he saw how serious Gilbert looked, his smiled faltered. What could possibly be so bad about a joke?

"Well, whatever." Elizaveta looked toward Matthew, "Anyway, won't you need a ride home or something? It's almost one. Although I don't think you'll get in trouble since you're rich, and rich people don't get in trouble or something like that…"

Matthew laughed, "Oh, yeah, I probably should get a ride home. Alfred will be mad…" He said the last part quietly, his cheeks turning red.

"Alfred?" Elizaveta asked.

"His brother." Gilbert put in.

Elizaveta perked up at this. "Brother? You have a brother? Older or younger?"

"Um, we're twins…"

Elizaveta glanced at Gilbert and then looked at Matthew interested. "You should introduce me some time."

Matthew looked at her confused for a moment. Didn't Gilbert say she was a…?

"I'll get the car keys." Gilbert said suddenly as if wanting to change the subject. He pushed off of the counter since he was leaning against it and winced, limping a few steps before trying to put his weight on his right knee. Matthew heard Elizaveta sighed in an exasperated manner.

"Gilbert, does your knee seriously still hurt? You didn't hyperextend it."

"Yeah, whatever." Gilbert said as he exited the kitchen.

"You're not fooling anyone!" She called after him and she rolled her eyes running her fingers through her ponytail. "Honestly, he's like a little kid…"

Matthew looked at Elizaveta in curiosity, but also felt a bit worried. "Do you mean he did something worse than hyperextend it?"

Elizaveta stopped running her fingers through her ponytail and turned to look at him. After a few seconds of silence, she asked. "Do you remember anything that happened last night?"

The question threw Matthew a bit off guard. "Um, no I don't really…"

Elizaveta smiled at him, but it seemed a bit strained. "Oh honey, nothing at all?" She sounded concerned, like she was worrying over her own child.

"Well, I do remember the bonfire, and…and stuff…" Matthew was stuttering as he struggled to maintain his composure. The way Elizaveta was watching him was making him nervous. Surely she had remembered something he hadn't. She had been sober all the times he could remember.

"Hmm…" Elizaveta said thoughtfully, "Do you run?"

"No, I don't…"

"You look like you do."

"I play hockey."

"Ah, that would explain it! But seriously, I think you should come running with me sometime. I could always use a running buddy while I'm still here."

The way she looked at Matthew with her eyes gleaming, he knew that she was letting on to more than she was admitting. He shrugged slightly.

"Um, sure, I guess…" He mumbled, blushing.

Elizaveta beamed. "Good." She reached forward and pinched Matthew's cheeks, "And why don't you turn that frown upside down?"

Gilbert walked in just then, looking at them in disgust. "Eliza, stop molesting him." He turned to Matthew, shaking the keys in his hands. "You ready to go?"

"Y-yeah." Matthew said quickly and rubbed his now tender cheeks. He said a quick goodbye to Elizaveta and walked out the door, Gilbert following behind him. Matthew noticed how he was trying to walk normally, but it was evident that his one leg was lame.

"What was that all about?" Gilbert asked in amusement, leaning in to murmur in his ear. Feeling Gilbert's breath on his neck sent shivers down his spine.

"I don't know…" Matthew said, and he was being honest. He had no clue what had just happened.


After Matthew had said goodbye to Gilbert, he had trudged up the stairs to his house, for once feeling only a bit numb at the prospect that Alfred might be a little more than pissed off that he was getting home so late. He felt his heart clench slightly. Usually people would be afraid of returning home to angry parents, not their siblings.

He walked through the front door, at least a little relieved that Alfred had left it unlocked. Usually when they fought, Alfred liked to be an asshole and do some, yet incredibly irritating things. Like locking the front door when Matthew didn't have a key.

Or maybe Alfred just forgot to lock the door this time.

Matthew walked into the kitchen still mulling over the events that had occurred last night. He seriously could hardly remember anything and it made him feel angry at the dull ache in the back of his head. Why had he decided to even drink anything in the first place? Then again, he had expected last night to be normal, and nothing out of the ordinary.

Matthew walked into the kitchen and looked at the counter, seeing cups upon red plastic cups piled everywhere. Alfred had also held a party last night, he had forgotten about that.

Grabbing a few Motrin, he reached into the fridge and poured a glass of orange juice. He tilted his head back to take a sip so that the pills would go down easier—

And nearly spit it all out as he noticed a large hole in the wall nearly the size of his head.

It looked recent—well, it had to have been recent, considering the last time Matthew had been in the kitchen, there was no hole in the wall.

He heard someone walk into the kitchen, and turned to see Alfred. Alfred barely batted an eye in direction, but Matthew temporarily forgot about the fact that they were supposed to be angry at each other, and pointed to the wall.

"What happened there?" Matthew asked in disbelief. Alfred walked pass him, reaching into the fridge for some milk, which he simply drank from the carton before putting it back. Finally he spoke.

"Ivan was helping me to set up for the party (That you were supposed to help me with, he didn't need to mention it, for Matthew knew he was implying it) and when he asked me where you were, I said you were at Gilbert's. Then he punched a hole in the wall..." Alfred trailed off at the last sentence with a kind of light air as if he were saying, See? I'm not the only one.

Though for most people, their friend punching a hole in the wall wasn't always a good way to prove their point, but they had money. Alfred knew he could make a mess of things, and just a swipe of one of their parent's limitless credit cards, and they could fix it all.

And yet, at the same time, it held a kind of light. Because he remembered what Lars had said last night, causing Gilbert to look at if his world had been torn apart.

Ivan and Gilbert had been best friends once.

"Don't lock the door." Alfred called in a kind of nonchalance as he exited the kitchen, "Someone's coming to fix the hole before mom and dad get home."

Huh, so Alfred hadn't forgot to lock the door.

Oh. Well.