Seemed that the boys had awoken to a sour mood.

It wouldn't be the first time that Goofy had to play mediator.

The thirteen-year-old looked up in silence; had the man not known any better it would easily be mistaken for a glare, "Yes, Mr. Goof?" Slackening his defenses, Bradley placed his arms down and leaned back a little. The black dog knelt carefully smiling some, "Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Without thinking the boy gulped, "I had a nightmare and just walked around; that's all. I kept close to camp;" Taking notice at the father's surprise, "I'm ok."

Brad recoiled when Goofy placed a hand on his shoulder; it was taken back so he could keep a better distance. Not too long ago he made an attempt to discuss something important with Alphonse, although it ended up leading to Mr. Goof being booted out of the office. At least Bradley's temper wasn't as explosive.. Something was wrong.

The topic would be brought up another time.

Back at the campsite, Max was just outside the small tent brooding while reading a chapter of Goosebumps. What was it with Brad throwing a fit well past the age of having them..?

"Guy can't take a joke even." Forgetting that the tent was just fabric being supported by beams, he about sank into it when he tried to relax—"!" Pushed himself back on his rump just in time; Max just noticed his dad and his odd friend coming his way. To resume normalcy, Max started up reading again on a different page.

"Max." The son gulped at the tone of voice, "Yes?" Eyes barely peeking out of the book cover—Brad was much calmer now, up until Goofy made an announcement,

"I need the two of you to gather wood for the campfire tonight—also for cooking in case we run out of charcoal." The boys glanced at each other anxiously. "Let's not dilly dally."

Brad swallowed his fountain of pride quick, "Yes Sir." He didn't wait for Max as he was suddenly past them, off into the woods and the unknown.

".. Wait." The older kid wouldn't listen; Goofy looked on as his son went after Brad in a low sulk as if ashamed. Being ignored like this was perhaps fair punishment for what had happened earlier.

Being riled up had the effect of making some stronger than usual, as was the case with this one. There was no hint of a whine from Uppercrust's throat as he carried a woodpile that should have weighed him down in seconds. In all honesty Max couldn't tell if he was focused or just angry. Thoughtless, Max felt like he shrunk—it was rare to see this sort of spark within deep blue irises. The boy sighed bringing his head down as he couldn't indulge in the negative for too long, "I'm sorry," a mumble that didn't quite reach the other's ear.

Brad shoved another armful of lumber to him, "Quit staring into space." The biting undertone managed to break Max out of his lull, "I'm not dumb you know."

The teen raised a brow, "I never said—

"Well you were thinking it..!" Max huffed, gripping the bark to his chest to prevent it from flying out of its cradle. Bradley simply dropped the subject in response and no longer spoke for a good hour; gestures were done in small doses to get their task done.

The longer they kept their silence, the more questions churned inside him; Max forced down a primal reaction to frustration. It was usually at this point that his friend, so-called, would begin to apologize profusely for his poor behavior. Grating minutes passed without exchange. Looking each other in the eye was hard to do; since when was Bradley intimidating?

".. Max." The boy gulped and looked away as he continued, "I was, dreaming about my dad. That's it."

"…" Failing to respond. Brad sighed, half wishing the day could be over already. A chill swept through the forest; faint bird calls teased their ears. Max dropped a couple branches by mistake, which the other picked up and tossed into his own pile. The black dog bit his lip in embarrassment; without warning a firm yet warm hand gripped onto his shoulder. He couldn't get his head up to see a small smile.


"I don't know what you see in the boy."

"He's another boy—a friend Dad; Sir." Bradley looked away from Alphonse, "He's my only real friend."

The son left it at that; the father raised a heavy hand only to tuck it underneath his own chin, as if in disbelief that this relationship to the Goof had a base stronger than superficial commonalities.

".. Bradley. You know that someday, you're going to have to part ways with him."

Alarmed eyes shot up, and shook under the earth-tinged irises. It wasn't a joke; that much was certain. The small Uppercrust swallowed nothing and yet his voiced waned terribly, "You can't..! wh—Why?"

Alphonse only shook his head slowly, assuming that he was either too young or simply unattached to social mores to understand what those reasons were. As he turned to walk away, there was a strong tug at his sleeve and well-pressed cuff of a simple dress shirt. "Why can't I be with him? There's nothing wrong about them!"

His dad stared plainly, "You're going to have to take on more responsibilities as you get older." The boy flinched, darkened eyes asking why. "Because I said so."

Bradley took a step back while rubbing at stinging sockets, "It's, it's because we're rich, isn't it?" He barely noticed a figure towering over him until it was too late to be prepared.

"You're smart; you should know it's more than that." A cool sigh to get himself to calm and think through words carefully, "We're of a different class with different customs." There was a sharp silence before a growl startled him. Max must have incited a spark of rebellion; something which Alphonse Uppercrust wasn't going to forgive.

"To hell with 'class'." Brows furrowed low as sapphire gleamed upward, "I don't want to change this..! I haven't been happier since—!

Arm squeezed hard, "Watch your mouth." Met with defiance in the form of a glare which the older male wasn't used to. Had he been on the drink, the kid might have well been stomped into the floor. The man gulped even as the grip tightened. Bradley gave out noises resembling a pup caught in a trap before trying to pull away—he wasn't about to beg.

"Max is my friend!" Limb shoved away, "I care for him, a lot." Now speaking to the carpet, with arm going numb; Brad didn't bother to try raising it.

"You don't think I notice that? You should appreciate that I've allowed this relationship to take place at all—out of nothing but a chance meeting."

A shaking fist covered up the bruise forming on skin, marks of fingers imprinted upon it. Bradley wanted to smile at that moment in time—during a business proposition between his dad and that of another one of Max's friends.

"Ow." Drawing in breath suddenly, "D-Dad."

. . .

"Dad?"

When he peered up, Alphonse had already taken his leave. The young teen pursed his lips in trying to process his father's disapproval in a rational way. White in the eyes reddened, and failure to understand came down onto warm, tingling cheeks.

"You..!" Not being in possession of a library of curses, his frame merely collapsed on the soft carpet in a much deeper sadness than anger. Eyes shut tight.

".. Why did you let me, then?"


"Does he even like to go outside?"

The silence between them was over for some time, and Max was nothing but grateful for it; he had to keep upbeat for them both. Bradley looked nowhere in particular, "He's either at the work office or his home office, or just cooped up in his room. I don't think he does.." That wasn't the case when she was around. He shook his head a little to not linger on the past. It was kind of funny to entertain the notion of Mr. Uppercrust being out there with them. An image of the man holed up inside a luxurious tent with a hardbound book or newspaper in hand got the teen to grin however lightly, "Mom loved being outside for walks and.."

Quelling himself mute, he glanced Max's way thinking that bringing her up would unintentionally slight him, who had no memory of a mother's smile and warmth. But the other seemed unfazed, "And what?" Bradley shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't really important; the younger boy nearly dropped his pile, "You keep doing that, leading up to something neat before you just stop talking."

They were nearly out of the thick part of the woods with their last haul; baby blue eyes shone in the hazy sunlight in anticipation. Bradley quirked a brow, "You think my life is 'neat'?" Chuckling some, ".. She'd bring us all along for hikes beyond the estate grounds—including Yoli," Max now wondered how old the heady lead servant was—

"And.. Mom knew something about riding horses from where, she was from." Putting on a somber face at the other's raised eyebrows, "I never got to learn; the few that we had were sent off after she had gone." Finding their mother lode of branches, Uppercrust gingerly got on his knees to set his part down. Max followed suit, hoping that his prodding wasn't too much.

The older boy was quiet, loose hold on his shoulder. Sapphire dulled before a surreal glow managed to get a grin on his face, "Think that your dad could survive getting on a horse?" The smaller kid looked on with a crooked brow, "Huh?"

"Since he's survived practically anything else!" Barely covering an emerging giggle with a flared out hand, giving the impression of a petite rich girl—to which Max smirked almost ruthlessly, "I bet he can, and would do circles around your dad if they had a 'friendly competition'."

Bradley couldn't help but laugh at the very idea, "Oh?"

"Yep. And I think even now Dad could teach Al on all this camping stuff too. We could have a Father-Son race on the lake in canoes," circulating his arms on his sockets in a rowing motion. Young Uppercrust placed his hands on his hips, changing his body's posture from meek to confident, "In that case, we'd win for sure. He lifts weights in his spare time..!"

He turned away, embarrassed. The few times he wanted to interact with his father he'd end up being an unwilling voyeur to private moments in his daily life. Some rare scenes from the past were too much even for a grownup. "He does look the type. Bradley? Your face is getting kinda red."

He closed his eyes to calm, before sniffing, "I think, the chill out here is starting to get me sick." Max gasped and started to drag him back to camp, "We can't have that happen this weekend, come on."

But, the wood? "Let me carry most of it for now. You need to put a sweater on first!"


It had been a good three hours since the boys left. A tinge of fatherly instinct worried for their safety. Just as he turned around to face the trees near the clearing of the campsite he breathed a sigh of relief. The two walked alongside each other with heavy piles. Max and Bradley had set up a relay system to get the desired item back to base. In retrospect they should have brought the wagon. At least Brad seemed all better in ten minutes from his initial claim, now that the sun was upon them.

Goofy chuckled, happy for their current dispositions—back to normal in talking about random things. He set down a pack of flour for a late breakfast to help get what was left spread in a line throughout the forest.

"Thanks Mr. Goof." Bradley stretched his arms out to the sky, shutting his eyes. Max tried doing the same but was caught on his thoughts. He couldn't help but wonder how he would turn out once the waves of puberty started. Would his mood swings be as bad as his friend's, or worse? On one occasion the off topic of girls came up; the older one wasn't excited about it but he felt he had to tell Max that he'd start to develop 'those romantic feelings'. Besides his cousin Debbie, Maxie couldn't believe it would run so deep. As the saying went, 'Bros before—

"Hey, Son." Hand on his shoulder, "Everything fixed up between you two?" Max paused and gave a slow, jerky nod of his head. He looked to notice Bradley slowly walking towards their fishing boat, out of curiosity, to see it filled to the brim with pink suds for its maintenance. It was an ill advised idea to try scooping it up as if it were in a tub although it was tempting.

Max kept his voice low to answer, "Ya think, next time, we could make Alphonse go with us?"

His old man couldn't give a straight answer. A moment's glance at the other boy produced a slightly pained expression on him.


This time Bradley didn't have enough energy to be super adventurous, but settled for a half-day's hike through another part of the forest. Countless, thin yet lush tall trees with rare dappling of sun through various shades of emerald green. Bright moss decorated the rocks and darker areas as if lighting the way. It was something out of a fantasy epic. It was common sense however that no animals were suddenly going to be dancing along with a little song. While he found it soothing, Max had a hard time to give in to the quiet atmosphere. His dad was so invested in the walk he got a hold of a brochure detailing the specific flora and fauna in the region. He about squeaked when he caught sight of a baby bunny of an odd color and a flying squirrel.

With the adult's permission, the boys were able to wander around a freer range. The oldest broke off of the designated path when he overhead a sloshing of water, growing louder than a shower head on full blast. Mist hit his face; Brad shivered at the sudden drop of temperature. He let out a breath once settling into the new environment.

"Max!" Trying to call over the sheer white noise, "Goofy! Come over here!"

Goofy wasted no time, "You found the waterfall~!" holding out the map in front of his face tripping on a rock much too fast for Bradley to react. He winced instead for the supposed pain, "Are you alright?" The man bounced back up, "I'm a-OK", signaling the gesture. The least he could do was get a Band-Aid for the minute scrape below his chin. Max could have made the same mistake had he not caught himself, "oop—!"

The younger kid's eyes held a sparkle once he observed the height of that natural wonder. Max hopped on a flat rock near the edge of the pool and invited his friend to do the same. Brad saw it coming, but he was still nervous about getting closer to the torrent beating on the stones just below. "I—I'll, be right there Max..!" With wanton abandon, he then took a running start on a white granite strip to leap off its edge. He doubled over backwards but gained his footing. Max reached out his hand to him at the last wide stretch, "Almost here!" A second later the boy had a stronghold on the teen's wrist, pulling him to safety. Bradley caught his breath, "Th-Thanks.."

By this point the mist on their faces pretended to be sweat from exertion. Instead of letting go, Max guided him to the foaming cascade, "We're running through it~!" At that Brad squeezed his hand a little too hard but Maxie was too invested in the feat to notice. That, and Goofy's near cries for them to reconsider; the current seemed much too strong.

"One, two!" Three!

They had a moment's notice to hold their breath. Roaring at their ears would likely leave them ringing for at least an hour. The weight of water had them buckling at the knees. So much for a leap; they ended up crawling out of the other side soaked to the bone.

"~Whoo—Ack!" The black dog coughed before giggling madly with glee despite possibly freezing within the cave. Bradley only shivered in place of celebrating but was intrigued at the hole they just found. As best he could, he squeezed water out of his mopped up hair, wincing a bit at the pain near his shoulder that he managed to ignore up to this point. "I think, that's.." running his hand over a damp, smooth wall—faint carvings could be seen. The lighting wasn't the greatest to discern what they could be.

"Hey," Max poked Brad's shoulder for him to glance back at the entrance, "I think this water's blue, for real." The other kid almost didn't believe it until they stared at it for about a minute. What would cause..?

".. Maybe we're just overthinking it. Maybe the stone itself is blue and—" The Goof rolled his eyes in response, "Blah blah, blah science." Brad raised a brow and failed to glare back, beginning to laugh instead.

"Ha—you're getting better," the other grinned.

"What?"

"Well hello~!" Goofy popped in through a small space between the slab of rock and the waterfall—he had taken the long way around to preserve his camera, set on 'Record'. Max waved enthusiastically at the lens, "Hello~!" Bradley hid his face instead, kind of wishing they had stayed in solitude a little longer…

Their goal, again, was to not fall ill. When they finally cleared the forest, the hotter sun and slight breeze got most of the moisture off. The teen sneezed, but preferred that over having to take his shirt off in front of them.


He saw their laughter; Max's joy. They made a pretty good team, all things considered. In contrast, his own relationship with his father was..

Bradley wasn't jealous, but appreciative that he had come across a decent father figure worthy of respect, talented in many ways despite the inherent flaws that may have been passed down from Goof to Goof.

Sometimes the boy would backtrack in his mind to find fractions of memory from when he and his dad would spend time together. Those nights when he would be the one to read bedtime stories in place of his mother if she was overworked (since she refused to let the servants handle everything themselves).. Walking to the lake past the meadow, hand in hand.. Just enjoying each other's company on Sunday mornings when Lillian went to attend service with Yoli.

"Bradley..?"

"Hm?"

This time the boys were helping with meal preparation. If only the 'nanny' didn't have to follow orders from Alphonse, he would have already known a thing or two. His lack of knife skills shone through. "Er, watch your finger there."

Goofy carefully adjusted the position of Bradley's hand holding the tomato, which was already a slippery specimen. The kid blushed, "Thank you Goofy," eyes downcast.

"It's alright." The man kept his voice low to a whisper so that the other boy washing fruits and vegetables wouldn't hear, "I still haven't taught Maxie to cut food up—you beat him in something..!"

Instead of swelling up with pride Brad's face only got red as the tomato. So what if he learned a new skill first—he was only two years older! He wondered now in that moment if his old man would bother instructing him on how to run a kitchen properly. Out of nowhere his friend had fallen into him, "ay!" In the corner of his eye Bradley saw a stray bell pepper rolling on the patchy grass.

"I'm sorry..!" The two accidentally butted heads in trying to chase the thing down. "Ow.." Maxie covered his mouth in place of another apology, brows raised. A ruddy spot marked the side of the other's crown. The teen wasn't too dizzy; he clutched at it just the same while on the ground. Goofy gasped, "Are you two alright?"

Bradley got out something like a giggle, getting up to a crooked stand, "S-sure, 'ow 'bout you, Max..?" The black pup blushed, mortified, "I'm, fine." Quick as can be he picked up the item and rushed back to his spot, pepper slipping in his grasp again until he got a claw in.

.. He couldn't stand those clumsy moments he had, like it would confirm his friend's imaginary suspicions that he was some dummy after all. Being the hip n' cool one didn't always cover up the fact that he was related to the famous klutzy Goof.

But when said Goof wrapped an arm around his shoulder, he leaned against his father's side with no hesitance. No one mentioned anything of it afterwards and that was just fine for him.


The man got his guitar ready for a song of his choosing. His taste in music was outdated, sure, but that was the novelty of it. Gathered around the fire, the youngest one offered his version of an ambrosia salad with leftover berries, chopped nuts, apples and diced marshmallows (done with a butter knife which proved to be difficult). It was his dad's suggestion to drizzle honey over everything and Bradley's to crumble up a piece of chocolate over that. A delighted hum from Bradley as he tasted it was a seal of approval; Max beamed at his own efforts.

Goofy peered up from his strings, clearly excited to share, "This is a tune that my pappy would use to sing. I don't expect you to sing along but.. ahem," final twists of the knob before he began. Paired with a good set of lungs, the slight warble along the lyrics was easily excused as satin-covered fingers flew over taut coils, great as before. Given the lyrics, the tone which the man was going for seemed to clash with what would be taken as sheer nostalgia,

".. Take me home, country roads.." Bradley had a spoon to his lip as he mulled over the words, brows raised a little. To the place, I belong.

".. The radio reminds me of my home far away.." Max had his turn to close his eyes; to him it was a lullaby. The man continued on undeterred, quite focused on the song as he looked up to the few stars the yellow light would allow. Never had to take in a breath between the verses..

The teen pursed his lips near the end of the song. "West Virginia, Mountain Mama," Take me home, country roads.

Although the two gave their version of applause, Bradley went listless not long after while Mr. Goof kept playing more upbeat country songs with cheery lyrics to match.. Yet he smiled unsettlingly.

Max stretched out his arms with a tiny yawn some time after, too beat to come up with any high strung tales this evening.

"Ready for bed Maxie?"

He shook his head listlessly, "No way, ahm.. It is getting cold though," despite the flames, "I might head into the tent now.." seeing if Bradley would follow suit. The older kid seemed lost in his own mind and after feeble attempts to get his attention, the boy got up with a "g'night~" to which both Goofy and Bradley reciprocated.

"See you in the morning."

Max was still at the age where a hug and kiss on the cheek from his parent wasn't shame-inducing, although the older Goof was playfully shoved, "D-aaad..! Not in front of my pals!" Blushing just a tad; Brad giggled, chin propped on his hand,

"Don't mind me." Waving him off.

Goofy could only smile, "Love you." Maxie said the same before heading out to the clearing where the tents were.

"…"

Crackles of the fire pit were all that could be heard for a good minute or two. Goofy would ask if Bradley was meaning to sleep anytime soon, but the kid seemed quite alert and yet not even there. Hands curled in on themselves before one held the other in self-comfort.

"One day we can invite him along too."

The guy blinked, "Hm?" As if noticing Goofy for the first time, ".. Oh. Yeah." Hands meshed, tense, "But you did, remember? This time?"

The old man chuckled, "You're right; so I did." Believing that this kid missed his father dearly, Goofy continued, "Mighty busy he is, huh?" Keeping uncanny neutrality in his inflection while displaying interest by leaning forward—Bradley was relieved that Goofy was able to pick up on his preferences in distance during a conversation.

"Yes, he is. Since my mom passed away," cringing, feeling bad knowing that the Goof had lost his wife even sooner, in a way. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Go on."

".. Since then, he's been working a lot more and doesn't have time for anything," peering down at a forming fist, "like he's worried about losing what we have, or;" shaking his head slowly, "don't we have more than enough already?"

A mere hypothetical; Goofy could only shrug. "I gotta work; Pete has to work and he's richer than us. Thinkin' it would be the same for Alphonse too even if he's the richest." Scratching at the base of his neck, he looked at the young Uppercrust—his brows had dipped during the man's response,

"Does it matter that we—that he's in a 'higher class'?" Fiddling with a stray twig that had been rejected by the flames and had cooled long enough to not burn his fingers; some ash marked his pale skin. It was an improvement.

"Not at all. Doesn't matter how much money one makes—there are good people who are rich." Brad failed to restrain his scoff. "And there's some people that are pretty lousy, rich or poor. What you have or don't have doesn't matter. It's, who you're with."

Dulled blue eyes scanned the piece of bark on the log between them, uncomfortable in the moment prompting Uppercrust to scoot away, through no fault of the Goof.

"And how you treat one another.. Something wrong?"

Concern in his voice—a warmth that replaced the callousness of the rich man in Bradley's life. Despite enjoying Goofy's company, the teen simply wasn't used to it on a certain level. He half-expected an abrupt change in personality that would catch him off guard in the whirlwind of it all,

"It's happened before." A private thought that couldn't be discernible as it was released as a sigh covered by the side of his hand as if tired.

".. You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable. You can turn in." Mr. Goof ignored an impulse to be at Bradley's aid; he was passively digging his nails deep into his own arm at a deep itch. The kid looked up at him guardedly, "Do you think I'm alright if..?" Sighing, "I'm really not tired or anything. But you should be getting rest." Standing up, "I'll help with putting out the fire so you can do so sooner, ok?"

Bradley had effectively dropped the subject, finding it better to be productive in the moment than to bring this old man into his seemingly obsessive and perhaps meaningless thoughts. In about ten minutes' time they bade each other a good night,

"Don't let the bedbugs bite." A simple, caring wave.

Grinning slightly, "See you tomorrow.."

Back into the tent with his snoozing buddy. A solitary walk was out of the question this time. The next hour or two was spent being curled up, brain numbing to a variety of topics which eventually made him drift off to sea.

Bradley imagined holding a gloved hand which rested firmly on his shoulder; it was more than welcomed.


Everyone else was fast asleep.

A man was out for the count, lying on the floor. A weapon still in a loosening grasp made of pure leather and a golden accent. Mossy eyes dulled to gray, wanting to close forever to forget the sight of what he had done to them. Shallow breathing carried the essence of liquor; bottle only refraction in the clouded moonlight.

Small, fragile steps approached him, this lying beast. Legs of the boy decided they were too weak to go on and knees buckled—hands braced the fall, "Ah..!" Wincing, just as the man did when his son pressed against him not expecting any reciprocation of any sort. One was exhausted; both were distraught.

The young one of six years held on fast, "Daddy." No more weeping could come out of those sockets housing royal blue irises. Survival was marked all along exposed skin emerging from ripped cloth of a set of pajamas. The scars that would form would eventually be a source of anger, if not vengeance in another life.

For the moment, "Daddy, I still –

Shock throughout the body of the father in question; color flashed within his irises for a mere second. He wished to push the apparition away but couldn't move a fraction of an inch, "N—no—Please don't say that!" Gaze flickered anywhere within the dark room to avoid seeing this boy next to him. A broken sound from his strained throat, "Why..?!"

A small hand touched his face in such admiration.

It was twisted—Twisted! Such as it played out within the father's mind. He shouldn't have deserved any of this. Not his wife—not this child of their entanglement, and not that other—!

"It's ok; you're sad." Cuddling up right to his heaving and collapsing chest, "M-Mama's gone."

That was the phrase that sent the teetering soul over the edge. An animal's painful cry; the pathetic man choked on sobs. Some life returned to heavy limbs, "G-Get away from me, boy." The consuming spell of alcohol forbade him to rise again; for now this kid was safe. He still trembled from the threat.

"I, I won't. Let me stay."

In the din of the early morn, a horrid sight; however meekly, this boy smiled.

I don't understand!

Alphonse curled into himself only being able to allow this intruder to stay in his nest for the rest of the dead hours. Salted eyes forcing him into a fitful sleep with this accursed child who wrapped all around him in want and need, "Good night, Daddy.."