Arthur is the stubborn type, the type to do something once he decides to, and not be deterred no matter what is said. Alfred is familiar with his father's powerful walk and confident gaze, but this time, Arthur falters at the gate. Alfred tries to wait patiently, but he's not the patient type, and he's beginning to consider picking Arthur up and carrying him over to the door, and ringing the bell himself.
He doesn't get the chance. The door slams open, and the light comes spilling out from inside, illuminating a familiar figure. Alfred raises his hand to call out to his brother, but stops. Something is wrong. Mathew curls up into a ball on the dew-wet grass, and even from here Alfred can hear him gasping for breath. In a moment, Alfred is through the gate at his brother's side, and he can feel Arthur not far behind.
Mathew is choking and gasping as though he is being drowned, his shoulders shaking and his face is white. Alfred's seen this on TV enough to identify i panic attack, but he can't seem to remember how to help. All he can think about is Mathew. He's terrified, his brother looks like he's going to die, and Alfred feels like it might be true. Instinctively he pulls Mathew into his arms as he often did when they were younger, and Mathew would wake up crying from a nightmare.
Dimly, he's aware he calling his brother's name, but he's not really sure what he's saying. Finally, Matthew's gasps grow less demanding, and Alfred feels relief as the breaths become less rattling. He rubs his brother's back like Arthur had done to him when he was younger, begging Mathew to breath, saying its okay, Alfred is there. Mathew is safe.
Finally Matthew's breaths become even, and Mathew twitches in his arms but doesn't try to move, he doesn't seem to want to. Mathew mumbles Alfred's nickname into his shoulder, and his voice is tiny and weak when he does.
"Al."
It feels like a question, not an acknowledgement, though Alfred isn't sure what the question is, he knows the answer.
"Mattie."
He tightens his grip on his brother, and it feels weird, like he's holding a little kid, not his full grown brother. He's never seen Mathew have a breakdown like this before, and Alfred is terrified. He'd known something was wrong, Mathew would never have flown over to visit Arthur if it wasn't important, but now Alfred's head is beginning to fill with reasons that Mathew would panic like this, each worse than the last, and he can't shake them away. Alfred presses Mathew for an answer.
"Mattie, what's wrong? Let me help you!"
Mathew dissolves into tears, and Alfred feels even more afraid. Was it something he did? Is that why Mathew can't tell him? Is it something so bad that Mathew can't say it? Arthur is hovering behind Matthew's back, looking like he'd like to comfort him, but isn't sure how to. He looks guilty, and Alfred knows it's because of how he treated Mathew earlier, but he can't seem to care right now. He just wants Mathew to stop crying, he wants his brother to feel better, and he doesn't know how to fix this.
Finally, Mathew stops crying, sitting back and wiping his eyes and nose on his sweater, and Alfred releases his brother from his bear hug. Matthew's red and swollen eyes dart up to Alfred's timidly, then fall to the tear and snot-stained sweater, and Alfred can't tell if Mathew is flushing from the meltdown or from embarrassment as he timidly apologizes.
"Sorry I ruined your sweater."
Its such a miniscule, unimportant thing to worry about that Alfred feels a little annoyed that Mathew even thinks it matters. A sweater is nothing. It can be washed or replaced. Family can't be replaced. He more upset that Mathew won't explain what's going on than he could ever be about a sweater. He wishes his brother would depend on him.
"Forget that! What's happened? You weren't this bad when you came to visit Arthur!"
Immediately Alfred can tell he made a mistake. Mathew looks like he might start crying again and his whole face turns red. His hands clench into fists, and too late, Alfred realizes he's set off one of his brother's rare explosions of anger, though he quickly realizes it's not him, but Arthur that Mathew is angry at. Still, that doesn't make the poisonous way Mathew spits the words out any easier to hear, and more than once Alfred flinches at the cruel words.
Arthur retreats a step behind Mathew, and he looks crushed, like he's about to cry as well. Alfred wants to hug his dad and tell him everything is going to be all right, but he can't make himself move, frozen under the onslaught of Matthew's boiling anger. Then Mathew says something that comes right from one of Alfred's darkest nightmares.
"It's his fault Papa is dying!"
Alfred wants to be scared about what that means, he wants to comfort Mathew and tell him everything will be okay, and to tell him he's wrong about Arthur, but one look at Arthur's face tells Alfred the most important thing to do. Because Arthur looks like he was just shot.
"Shit."
Alfred curses, and Arthur begins to move, almost mechanically. Alfred chases after him. All his instincts are tell him that at this moment, he absolutely mustn't leave Arthur alone.
"Dad, Wait!"
Arthur doesn't stop and Alfred feels like his whole family is unravelling right now, here in the small garden in Paris, in a place that used to have good memories, but now everything is falling apart.
Alfred is really scared because he isn't sure he can fix it.
