"Mattie," Alfred complained, shoving his face frustratedly into his hands, "I really need your help right now."

"With what?" Matthew questioned, looking up from the book he'd been reading to stare at his brother, who was lying haphazardly over the couch. It had been a little over a month since they'd gotten out of school, and most of that time had been spent in this exact same position: one of them on the couch and one of them in the armchair. This wasn't an uncommon setup for the twins during the summer, but Alfred thought that the vacation couldn't be more different from how it used to be.

From the very moment that they'd gotten home on the last day of school, he'd been trying to work up the nerve to call Arthur. He wanted nothing more than to talk with the other boy, to spend time with him, but he couldn't help himself – he was nervous. Every time he thought about having a conversation with him, his mind quickly supplied him with all the ways that it could possibly go wrong. So he decided to wait a few hours – and then those few hours turned into days, and weeks, and pretty soon it was July 6th and he still hadn't picked up the phone.

Alfred threw his phone toward Matthew, the small device landing on his lap. "Call Arthur for me," He whined, leaning down into a pillow, "It's super important."

Matthew rolled his eyes, throwing the phone back and smirking as it whacked him in the head. "Call him yourself, Al," He replied, pulling the book back up to his face, "It's not my job to fix your relationship issues."

Alfred half-sat up, glaring at his brother. "I don't have any relationship issues," He corrected, picking the phone up from where it had landed on the floor, "I don't have a relationship. That's the whole problem here!"

"Oh, come on, don't be so stupid," Matthew mumbled from behind his novel, not bothering to look up, "You and Arthur might be 'broken up', but we all know that you're basically still together."

"Matt, I don't think you understand what 'broken up' actually means. Unless Arthur says so explicitly, I don't have any right to him," Alfred retorted, crossing his arms as he sat up fully, "And what do you mean by we?"

Matthew smirked, raising an eyebrow at his brother. "Al, everyone knows about you two," He explained, letting his book fall back down onto his lap, "You're practically perfect for each other."

"Clearly not perfect enough, considering I can't even work up the nerve to call him," Alfred pouted, playing with the phone in his hands as he sighed, "I really miss him, ya know? I mean, it's technically only been like a month since I've seen him, but it feels like it's been forever."

"So just call him," Matthew suggested, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Alfred leaned his head back against the couch, running his hands through his hair as he bit his lip in frustration. "It's not that simple, Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed, "You keep talking like it's this super easy thing, but it's not!"

"And why isn't it?" Matthew asked, crossing his arms as he stared his brother down.

"Because it isn't!" Alfred replied, practically shouting in his irritation, "It's not like I'm going to pick up the phone and have a casual talk – this is a big thing! It means something!"

"What does it mean?" Matthew prompted, a knowing smile on his face, "Because you know, to me it sounds like you're just scared."

Alfred stared at him for a moment, almost dumbstruck. "No, I'm not – it isn't –" He stuttered out before lowering his head in resignation, "I love him, Matt, and right I'm pretty sure that this is my last chance to make everything right between us. I don't wanna mess it up."

Matthew sighed, making his way over to the couch and shoving himself down beside his brother. "You're making this way harder than it has to be, Al," He assured him, resting his palm on his twin's shoulder, "Arthur isn't going to pick up the phone and give you an ultimatum – it really is just a phone call."

"But what if I do something wrong?" He asked, his lip quivering ever so slightly, "I have this awful feeling that I'm going to screw over everything I've worked for. Or –"

Alfred cut himself off, looking away from his brother with an expression almost akin to shame. Matthew stared at him, eyebrows furrowing as he leaned towards his twin. "Or what?" He pressed.

"It's really stupid," Alfred admitted, giving a small self-depreciating smile, "Especially because I want it so much. But the truth is that I'm kind of afraid that everything will go fine, we'll get back together, and –"

He broke off again, pausing for a moment to swallow the lump in his throat. "And then," He whispered, "It'll turn out that I'm still not good enough for him, that we still don't work together, even after everything has changed."

Matthew scoffed, and Alfred whipped his head around to face him, a hurt look on his face. "Alfred, look," He began, crossing his arms, "Regardless of whatever issues you two have, you still work well together. Yes, you lied to him. Yes, he wouldn't forgive you. And yeah, you've both grown up from that. But in the end, you'll always come back together. You've got the kind of personalities that just click, like puzzle pieces."

Alfred bit his lip, and Matthew heaved a little sigh. "Alfred, I've never seen you happier than you are when you're with Arthur," He explained, voice soft, "And that's saying something. You worked together then, you work together now, and you'll work together twenty years from now. Everything else is up to you."

Alfred simply sat there, shocked into silence, as Matthew pushed himself off of the couch and made his way towards the door. As he reached the frame, he turned around, leveling one last look at his brother. "Call him," He insisted, before disappearing into the hallway.

Alfred stared at his phone, contemplating what Matthew had said. Of course, he didn't doubt for a moment that fact that he and Arthur had been happy together – and the fact that, if given the chance, they certainly could be again. Was happiness enough, however, to get past the problems that they had?

We've changed, Alfred thought to himself, Both of us. That's got to mean something, right?

But there was no guarantee that Arthur would feel the same way. Just because he loved him, just because he forgave him, didn't mean that he wanted to be with him again. Alfred had done something awful, after all, and he couldn't just assume that a little change made him good enough for the other boy. Besides, even if he did call him, there was always the possibility that he would mess everything up without even trying.

If he didn't try, however, how could he know? There was a million different ways that that conversation could go, but he would never find out if he didn't at least attempt it.

He stared at the blank screen of his phone for a moment before gritting his teeth, decisively clutching it in his hand. I'm the hero, dammit! He thought, And I'm not going to avoid calling the boy I love just because I'm afraid of being rejected!

With a determined nod, he typed in Arthur's number, quickly pulling the phone up to his ear as he waited for it to begin ringing. In the split second between, he suddenly began to regret doing this at all, wondering if he had made the right decision, but by then it was already too late – Arthur had picked up after only one ring.

"Hello?" He greeted, voice breathless as if he had ran to answer the phone. Alfred nearly froze at the sound of his voice, that familiar accent making his heart race. He'd almost forgotten how wonderful it was to listen to him speak.

"Uh," He began, almost cursing himself for stammering, "Hey, Arthur!"

"Hey," Arthur replied, the smile in his voice nearly visible even through the phone. Alfred felt his own lips curling upward in response, unconsciously forming a grin at the thought.

"I, uh," He stuttered out, suddenly realizing that he had gotten so caught up in worrying about whether or not to call, that he had completely forgotten to think of something to actually talk about.

"How's it going?" He asked, nearly smacking himself in the face with how dumb he sounded. Out of everything that he could have said, he chose how's it going? He might as well have asked about the weather.

"Good. Brilliant, actually," Arthur admitted, barely able to conceal the excitement in his voice, "I'm actually really glad that you called."

"Y-you are?" Alfred questioned, simultaneously surprised and overjoyed as he clutched his phone even tighter, "Why is that?"

"Oh, no reason," Arthur replied, letting out a small laugh (and oh, was his laugh beautiful), "I'm just happy to be able to talk to you."

"Yeah," Alfred sighed, a dreamy smile on his face, "I – I'm happy that I can talk to you too."

Arthur laughed again, his voice carefree as he giggled on the other side of the line. "Well, yes, I would assume so," He reasoned, tone light, "Considering that you're the one who called me."

"Oh, right!" Alfred burst out, as if suddenly remembering that he had yet to come up for an excuse as to why he had called the other boy. He searched around the room almost desperately, trying to find something that he could use as justification. After a moment, his eyes alighted on the newspaper, lying forlorn on the end table, and he felt his face split into a grin. "I was just wondering – are you free today?"

There was a pause, a moment in which neither of them spoke, and Alfred thought that he could almost hear Arthur's heart beating through the silence. "Yes," Arthur breathed out, sounding almost exhilaratedly happy, "I believe that I am."

"Awesome!" Alfred exclaimed, picking up the newspaper and studying the article on the front page, beaming all the while, "Because, you know, today's the last day of the 4-H fair, so if you wanted to go with me –"

"I would love to!" Arthur burst out, leaving Alfred a little startled before he began to backpedal a bit, "I mean, if it's the last day, I might as well go. Not because I want to go with you, specifically. I'm just – I'm very interested in farming culture, that's all."

"Farming culture," Alfred repeated, a smirk on his face as he leaned back onto the couch, nearly crushing the cat that had somehow snuck up behind him during the course of their conversation. He absentmindedly reached over to pet him, barely concealing a laugh as he waited for Arthur's response.

"Yes, farming culture," Arthur reiterated, sounding almost offended at his statement, "It's an absolutely fascinating lifestyle."

"Right," Alfred sarcastically agreed, rubbing his hand across the fur of his cat, "And what lifestyle would that be again?"

"W-well," Arthur stuttered out, suddenly caught in his lie, "You know, shucking corn and that sort of thing."

"Artie," Alfred laughed out, unable to keep the grin off of his face, "You've never been to a 4-H fair, have you?"

There was a pause, and then Arthur muttered out, "No, I haven't actually been to a 4-H fair. B-but I am from England, so it would be stupid for me to have any knowledge of your ridiculous American rituals anyway!"

"You've told me plenty of times that you've been here long enough to know how things work," Alfred mentioned with a smirk before his eyes widened in excitement, "But this is actually really great! Because if you've never been to one before, that means that I get to show you your first American fair!"

"Y-yes, well," Arthur stammered, smile plain in his voice, "It doesn't sound completely awful."

"Great!" Alfred exclaimed, exhilarated about how easy this all seemed in retrospect, "How about I meet you at two o'clock, by the swingsets?"

"That sounds lovely," Arthur responded, voice suddenly soft and sweet, "I'll see you then. Goodbye."

"Bye, Artie," Alfred returned, ending the call with a click and setting it down onto the couch beside him. A small, warm smile alighted on his face, and he turned to Paw Revere with a heart as light as air, grasping him and pulling him into his lap.

Maybe Mattie's right after all, He thought, and the notion made him beam with happiness.

It turns out that Matthew was the biggest USUK shipper this whole time. Who knew?

I can't believe that I've actually done this again, and yet here we are. This entire chapter was supposed to happen in maybe 300 words, but somehow it ended up taking up this entire space. I'd like to say that this means that there's still just the last chapter and the epilogue to go, but I can't guarantee that this isn't going to end up being a 3-part kind of thing. Oh, the joys of being a writer.

Thank you all so much for the support you've given this fic! I love each and every one of you for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following this thing! You all really are what keeps me writing, and you're all the absolute sweetest people for doing what you do! Thank you!

~Alix Marie