Arthur does a lot of things wrong. It isn't Mathew's place to judge. His place is to stand behind Arthur and support him.
But not like this.
Mathew gently slides Arthur's hand off his thigh, pushing a hand gently but sternly against Arthur's chest to create a distance as he softly chides.
"Arthur, I'm not Alfred."
Arthur has drunk more than he should have, and it's obvious by the delay it takes for Arthur to register Mathew's words. Then, in a way Mathew hates to see, the realization strikes, and Arthur wilts. Mathew already knows what Arthur will say, because the same situation repeats every time Arthur is drunk, like a sad inside joke.
"Of course," Arthur mutters under his breath, a slight slur to his words, "You're Mathew. I know that."
There's something forlorn in the way Arthur says those words, and Mathew works hard to maintain his small, but polite, smile. Mathew can't help if it hurts to hear the way Arthur says those words, even though Mathew's heard them said that way a thousand times before. Arthur probably doesn't mean to sound so dejected, but his words still sound that way every time, regardless of whether or not Arthur is drunk.
"Good job, lad!"
Arthur claps Mathew on the back heartily, a proud smile on his face, and Mathew can tell he really means those words. Unfortunately, Mathew knows those words aren't meant for him.
"Sorry, Arthur," The words are apologetic and gentle. "I'm Mathew, not Alfred."
Immediately Mathew feels the response as Arthur falters in his steps, and his face twists a little as though he wants to say something. But when Arthur does speak, all he says is "I know that, Mathew."
Mathew feels bad for putting Arthur in such a humiliating situation, and he doesn't blame Arthur for playing it off as though he said those words with Mathew in mind, even though Mathew knows that isn't the case. Mathew makes sure to relay Arthur's words to Alfred later when they see him, and Alfred turns wide and surprised eyes towards Arthur, who flushes and denies it. Mathew hates that he's always caught between the two.
Alfred, the mirror image of Mathew in looks, but opposite in personality, regards Mathew's small smile with a matching one of his own, as though he's commiserating a secret between the two. Arthur looks like he wishes he's never said anything.
Arthur seems to be thinking hard, staring into the distance with creased brows. When he speaks, his tone is hesitant, but sounding a lot more sober than his earlier slur had suggested.
"Mathew.." Arthur pauses, then forges on, ".. why do you always think I'm mistaking you for Alfred?"
Mathew wishes Arthur hadn't voiced this drunken thought. Its delicate ground. Mathew has watched Arthur for years now, always standing just behind him, and has supported him enough over the years to know Arthur's personality. Arthur isn't ready to admit his feelings for Alfred. Even if Mathew brings it up, Arthur will brush it off. Instead, Mathew shrugs lightly as he answers.
"No reason, I suppose. We just look similar so I guess I'm used to getting mistaken for him."
Mathew knows he can't say the real reason. He can't tell Arthur that it's because of the way Arthur looks at Alfred with longing, the way Arthur nags at him or tries to claim Alfred's attention for himself every time they're together. He can't say its because Arthur has always looked at Alfred more than Mathew, and that Arthur has never fought to keep Mathew by his side like he did for Alfred.
Not just Mathew, but everyone they know, remembers that time.
Arthur slams his hand down on the table, fuming, when he learns that Alfred is leaving him. His face is blotched with what Arthur claims as rage, but Mathew recognizes as pain.
"I wont!" Arthur snarls as he paces his office. "I won't accept this! I wont let him go!"
It makes Mathew feel bad for Alfred, who is tired of being tied down, tired of being controlled. Alfred wants a new life, one that's his, not Arthur's, and Mathew respects his brother for that. He's secretly happy they're separating. Anyone can see the relationship between Arthur and Alfred is unhealthy, and Mathew hopes that some distance will fix it.
Arthur turns to Mathew suddenly, furiously, eyes rimmed with red, and makes a demand that chills Mathew's bones.
"Mathew, come. We're going to bring Alfred back!"
He doesn't ask Mathew. He demands it, and Mathew can't say no. This is how it has always been. Arthur demands something from Mathew, and no matter how painful or hard it is, Mathew delivers. All for the sake of Arthur who can only see Alfred.
Arthur's face is twisted in a way that Mathew can't read, and Mathew wonders if Arthur was remembering the same time he was. Mathew knows Arthur well enough that he can recognize the face Arthur makes when he thinks about Alfred, the same one he's always made. Even after they separated, the only one who got better was Alfred. Arthur never changes, and its that fact that causes Mathew's heart to ache.
Even so, Mathew is glad that they didn't succeed in bring Alfred back that time. Even if Arthur was hurt because of it, Mathew thinks this way is better. Before both Alfred and Arthur were in pain. This way, at least Alfred is happy. Mathew wants Alfred to be happy almost as much as he wants Arthur's pain to go away. He can still see the look of betrayal on his twin's face when Alfred saw Mathew behind Arthur that day.
Alfred's face is a mask of stone and resolution, his eyes are unwavering and clearly show his resolve.
"I won't ever come back. I'm not your belonging, Arthur. I'm my own person."
Arthur seems to snap at those words, surging forwards and grabbing Alfred's wrist with all his might. Alfred is stronger than Arthur, and frees himself with a single twist of his wrist, bringing his hand up in retaliation. His blow never reaches Arthur, and Mathew flinches as he catches the blow in his hand, stinging his wrist. It hurts, but this was the best option for Mathew. He can't hit Alfred, not after betraying him like this. He can't stop Arthur either. This is all he can do.
Alfred's face is melting into a look of pain and betrayal, and his firm voice wavers into something quiet and pleading as he sees his twin side with Arthur.
"Mattie?"
Mathew can't meet Alfred's eyes. He's never felt more like scum in his life, but he doesn't release Alfred's fist. All he can do it murmur a meaningless rephrase under his breath.
"I'm sorry."
And he is, in more ways than one. Mathew truly thinks he's pathetic, the worst kind of person. Mathew won't meet Alfred's eyes, and in trying to avoid them, his gaze hits Arthur's face instead. He wishes he hadn't seen that.
Arthur's face is crumpled, broken, and Mathew wonders if it's because Alfred rejected him, or if he feels bad for what he put Mathew through.
"Alfred." Arthur breathes in a choked tone, and Mathew realizes quickly its something else.
Its jealousy towards Mathew. Because Alfred who won't show anything but a stone face to Arthur, has broken and shown his true feelings towards Mathew. Mathew wishes he wasn't caught in this feud between his family. He wishes he had the courage to stay out of it. And yet, just as he couldn't say no to Arthur, he can't let go of Alfred's hand. Alfred's hand is shaking just like his, and Mathew resists the urge to curl their fingers together. He's lost that right. Mathew hates it.
Then there's another hand, reaching out and prying Alfred loose from the grip neither brother will break, and Francis is staring coldly at Mathew and Arthur. Francis, who's already abandoned Mathew once, makes his side clear this time too.
"It's over." Francis says coldly. "He's not yours anymore."
Mathew knows Francis isn't just speaking to Arthur.
Arthur seems to be watching Mathew's face, and belatedly, Mathew realizes that his smile has faltered and twisted into something else. Quickly Mathew reshapes his smile, but its too late, and Arthur's face crumples. Unfortunately for Mathew, Arthur has also lived with him long enough to know when Mathew is thinking about Alfred, or more specifically, that time.
"Im sorry."
They're words Mathew can only hear from a drunk Arthur, ones that sober Arthur would never say. Mathew wonders if Arthur is apologizing for mistaking the twins for eachother, or for making Mathew stand against Alfred all those years ago. Arthur doesn't explain further. Instead, he leans his forhead wearily against Mathew's shoulder and takes a deep steadying breath before he pulls back again. Mathew waits patiently.
Arthur reaches for Mathew's hand and pulls it to himself, and Mathew meets his eyes bemusedly, wondering what Arthur will do this time. Even so he doesnt expect the next words that come out of Arthur's mouth.
"Mathew, I love you."
Its so cute, Mathew thinks, the way that Arthur tries to reassure Mathew. Even Arthur isn't blind to his obvious favoritism towards Alfred, though he won't admit it, and Mathew knows Arthur's words are said out of guilt because of that. Mathew is carefull not to let his polite smile slip as he responds gently.
"Thanks. I love you too, Arthur."
Arthur's face starts to twist again. Mathew wishes he could give Arthur what he wants, but he's not the one who can fill that hole. The one who Arthur wants is Alfred, not Mathew. Arthur whispers under his breath, but not so quietly Mathew can't catch it.
"Why wont you believe me?"
Ah. Arthur is speaking to Alfred again, even though he's not here. Mathew's heart goes out to him and he tries to offer the answer as gently as he can.
"He does believe you, Arthur, its just that your 'love' means something different than his."
Arthur only sags lower.
"And yours?" Arthur's voice is so soft its barely audible. "What about your love, Mathew?"
Mathew wishes Arthur hadn't asked that. He wants to get angry at Arthur's insensitivity, to snap at him, but the bow to Arthur's proud shoulder stops him. Still, Mathew's tone isn't as gentle as he wants it to be when he responds.
"I'll always stand behind you, you know that Arthur. No matter what."
Its not an answer and they both know it. Neither calls it out.
