The silence is stifling in the room, but both Mathew and Alfred refuse to break it. Mathew's eye is swelling from Alfred's punch, and Alfred has a split lip. Neither of them will apologize. Neither of them will make eye contact. Mathew doesn't think he was in the wrong. He doesn't think he deserved to get hit by Alfred for what he said. Alfred has no right to be angry, even if Mathew forced him to face what he was hiding from. After all, Alfred forced Mathew first.

"Is either of you going to explain this to me?"

Arthur's clear voice cuts through the tension sharply. Mathew looks at Arthur out of the corner of his eyes, and Arthur looks too shocked to be disappointed, despite the hands planted on his hips. Alfred huffs but doesn't respond, and Mathew knows without looking that Alfred too is studiously ignoring his twin, just like Mathew is. Arthur makes a disbelieving noise.

"Mathew?"

He turns to Mathew for an answer, and Mathew carefully avoids looking at Arthur's face. Mathew doesn't think he can lie to Arthur's face, but this is a secret he'll take to his grave. This, at least, Mathew knows him and Alfred agree on. Arthur makes a bewildered sputtering noise, as though he's searching for the right words to protest. Arthur sighs, then gives up.

"You should at least put some ice on that."

Immediately, Mathew forgets his anger and begins to feel very small again. He can tell, even without looking, that Arthur is studying Alfred's face with concern. Mathew looks anyways. Arthur and Alfred have locked eyes, as though having a silent discussion. The terrible thing inside Mathew twists a little, but Mathew won't show it again. Instead, he slips up silently and leaves the room quietly before Arthur notices.

Mathew's job is to support Arthur, and to stand behind him. The person who can stand beside Arthur isn't Mathew.

Mathew roots through Alfred's freezer for ice, but only come out with a pack of frozen French fries. He isn't that surprised. Alfred isn't the type to get injured. Gingerly, Mathew applies the bag to his swollen eye, and leans back against the counter with a sigh, tipping his head up to stare at the ceiling with his remaining eye. He can't help but remember the last time he and Alfred exchanged blows. It isn't a good memory.

"You're just jealous because I'm Arthur's favorite!"

Alfred sticks out his tongue childishly at Mathew, and Mathew's mind goes blank. It's nothing a stupid argument over something foolish, and even though he's arguing, Mathew wasn't too upset, but as soon as he hears Alfred's words something changes. He feels hot and uncomfortable, and something twists painfully inside. Mathew doesn't even remember punching Alfred, but the next thing he knows he's sitting on top of Alfred, repeatedly striking for his face.

Alfred isn't a pushover, and although Mathew can clearly see he is hurt by Mathew's sudden aggression, it doesn't stop Alfred from dealing back some blows of his own. Mathew feels them, but the pain is not computing. His mind is hazy with anger and all he can think about are Alfred's words.

Someone catches his elbow and pulls it back, and there's an accusing shout, but Mathew doesn't even register it. Even when he feels the arms wrap around his waist and pull him away all he's focusing on is getting one last hit in. Then Arthur is in front of him, looking both horrified and angry, and Mathew can hear his words through his ringing ears.

"Alfred! What the hell were you doing to Mathew?"

Then everything drops into place like a stone in his stomach, and suddenly Mathew can feel the throbbing pains from the forming bruises and his sore fists, and a feeling of bile rising in his throat. Arthur's words seem like a cruel joke, like it's proving Alfred right. Even when Mathew's causing trouble, kicking and shouting and screaming, it feels like Arthur's first thought is always Alfred. It's a twisted and sick thing, but Mathew is even jealous of Alfred's scolding. Alfred bursts into betrayed tears.

Arthur recoils as both twins speak at the same time, both in the same righteously angry tone.

"He's not Alfred! I am!"

"I'm Mathew, not Alfred!"

Mathew is pulled out his reverie by the feeling of a presence at his side, and he jumps, dropping the slightly defrosting fries. He barely has time to register the presence is different, not Alfred or Arthur, before he sees who it is. Francis leans down and scoops up the defrosting fries quietly, his long hair falling to shield his face.

"Desolé, I did not mean to surprise you."

Mathew is surprised to see Francis, although the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense that he's here. Both Arthur and Alfred are friends with Francis. It's only Mathew that isn't close with Francis, a thought that doesn't sting as much as it should, even when Mathew remembers how close they were when he was younger.

"Papa!"

Mathew doesn't mean anything special by it, it's just what he knows other little boys use to call the man who takes care of them. He doesn't think much of it until he sees Francis's face twist into an expression Mathew can't understand. It's not quite a sad look, and Mathew doesn't think Francis looks mad, but he still feels like he's made a mistake.

"Well, now, I don't know about that."

Francis's tone is light, and Mathew is flooded with relief, he thinks that he didn't mess up after all. Francis curls his arm around Mathew and pulls him closer into a hug.

"How about 'Big Brother instead?" He suggests, still in his cheery voice. "Doesn't that sound better?"

Mathew likes that too. He has a big brother, although he doesn't see him anymore, and he knows what a big brother is. Mathew nods his head happily into Francis's neck, and hugs him tighter.

"I love big brother the most!" He announces earnestly, and Francis stiffens as Mathew obliviously continues. " You can be my big brother forever!"

This time, Mathew feels the tension, though he's too young to understand what it is. Francis laughs awkwardly and priés Mathew's arms from around his shoulders.

"Is that so? Forever is a long time you know?" His tone seems weak as he changes the subject. "Well, shall we make lunch?"

Even as Mathew cheers at the idea, there's something that bugs him. Francis hadn't agreed to forever. Mathew doesn't like the cold feeling that brings.

Mathew hides a frown at the memories. Maybe he and Francis never were close, it was only him who thought so. Mathew smiles politely at Francis and accepts the frozen fries back, applying them back on top of his throbbing eye.

"Long time, no see."

He responds in a way they doesn't quite fit the situation, a lie that's almost, but not quite, truth. Mathew has seen Francis more than he'd like to admit, the Frenchman seems to draw attention whenever he's in the area, whether it be bickering with Arthur, teasing Alfred, or offering unsolicited love advice, he's not the type of person one can ignore. Of course, Mathew's eyes follow him because of the love advice.

It's no secret among the people who know Francis that the man is both a narcissist and a self-proclaimed "love expert". It's to everyone's infuriation that both seem to be true. Mathew's never seen any of Francis's ideas fall through. He knows even Arthur will listen to Francis's relationship advice, though grudgingly, and has seen the results between Arthur and Alfred almost immediately.

The more Mathew thinks about it, the more sense it makes for Francis to be at Alfred's house with Arthur. He's probably giving the pair advice. But then... Why is Mathew there? Mathew turns so he can watch Francis through the eye not covered with frozen fries, and flinches when he sees Francis's eyes on him. Francis looks unusually serious, and it makes Mathew nervous as he recalls his conversation with Alfred only moments before. He doesn't think he can do that a second time.

"Oui, it has been."

Francis responds, and his eyes look like they can see right through Mathew. Mathew braces for the worst, but when Francis speaks, he doesn't mention Arthur.

"Mathieu, how do you feel towards Alfred?"