"Oh, Lukas, thank God you're alright!"Mathias said, enveloping the other further into the embrace.
"I'm fine," the shorter blond chuckled, "thank you for worrying."
Something in the back of Mathias' head reacted at that seemingly normal remark. It would have been normal coming from anyone else, but during the short time he'd known Lukas, saying as much as a whole sentence and even going as far as chuckling was something highly abnormal for the guy. Perhaps it had something to do with coming back from unconsciousness and a short shock that followed the accident? Mathias wasn't sure, but he couldn't bring himself to care much either – he was just happy that the other was okay, and the fact that he wasn't entirely emotionless anymore was just taken as a bonus.
"HEY GUYS!" A loud voice belonging to Alfred boomed through the hall as he slammed – or more like tried to slam – the heavy front door open, "You'll never guess what we saw down there! The ocean's totally-" Alfred came to a halt as his gaze met that of a second blond sitting next to Mathias, eyeing the newcomer with amusement. "Dude, you woke up!"
"I did indeed," Lukas nodded, a casual smile slowly creeping onto his pale face.
"Awesome. Look, Artie, I told ya he'd be okay."
"Still not Artie," Arthur murmured as he followed the American inside, still silently cussing when his eyes fell upon the awoken boy, "Oh, hello Lukas."
"Arthur," said boy greeted.
Neither Alfred nor Arthur knew the Norwegian at all, so to them there was nothing off about his now more receptive behaviour – if you could call it that. Mathias decided to see through it as well, thinking that Lukas perhaps just needed time – or in this case; an emotional awakening – in order to warm up to others.
Slowly, a conversation of questioning Lukas and discussing the frozen water broke free, growing more vivid as Antonio, Lovino and Matthew joined in later on. In the end they all forgot about informing the rest about Lukas' awakening, so when they all met up for dinner in the dining hall the Norwegian was showered with attention – which he handled surprisingly composed and politely considering what he'd just gone through. Several asked him where he fell, or more precisely, how he'd survived that fall. Lukas simply said that he couldn't remember anything about the fall or what had caused him to trip over the railing in the first place. Mathias had earlier insisted on being unknowing as well, so that matter was quickly forgotten.
Even though a rather large dinner buffet was served, there still weren't any signs of adults. Rome had told Ludwig and Feliciano that he'd left to hang up the paintings in a hallway and wouldn't be joining them for dinner. Nobody had heard anything from Germania, but they all simply assumed that he was accompanying his colleague. Nobody cared to pay this topic much attention either, so this was also pushed aside in order to talk about more pleasant and interesting questions about stuff like families and interests.
Time seemed to flow by quickly, and the crystal chandelier above the table had begun to brighten up the room, indicating that the sun was setting outside. Around 8 o'clock they'd all grown tired from the eventful day and retired to their rooms, more or less sleepwalking on their way there. Francis, Matthew, Gilbert, Roderich, Ivan and Yao decided to stay up though (some more or less forced by their roommates), and sat down in the furniture circle in front of the fireplace of the dim lit lobby, chatting or whatever else they found enjoyable.
Mathias asked Lukas if they shouldn't inform the leaders about his awakening and so far wellbeing, but Lukas assured him that there was no need and that they simply should rest, so they too decided to simply retire. On the way back to their room Mathias began thinking that perhaps this would be a rather pleasant experience after all.
"So," Alfred began as he sat down on his bed, dressed in a pyjamas consisting of boxers and a t-shirt, "do you know Frenchie from before?"
He watched as Arthur stiffened, freezing in the middle of pulling off his dress shirt. Slowly he began undressing again, pulling on a black t-shirt before crawling up to hide underneath the ivory blankets of his bed, tugging them so that they covered his face. "Yes," the half muffled answer came at last, "and thank you."
"No prob', man, but do ya mind telling me how?"
"How what?"
"How you know him."
"Yes, I do mind actually."
"Aww, c'mon! Why not?"
"It's private. I don't need to tell you."
This, however, only increased Alfred's curiosity further.
"Please?"Alfred tried again, turning over in his bed so that he faced the hidden Briton, "We'll practically be livin' together for the next couple o' weeks. There won't be much privacy between us then anyway."
Arthur could feel his cheeks heat up from the probably meant-to-be innocent remark, and silently thanked his covers for hiding his face. "Being roommates doesn't automatically make us best friends," he replied, refraining from adding 'git' to the end of the sentence, seeing how Alfred was just trying to be friendly.
"But we totally could, right?"Alfred asked and sat up using his elbows, trying to get a better view of the other – though the duvet was covering him entirely from head to toe. "I mean, you seem like a pretty cool person, and we already get alo-"
"Look, what you did today was kind, but I can assure you that I'd been just fine on my own," Arthur cut him off, getting more annoyed and confused with the situation. He didn't want to hurt Alfred, but he got a weird and unnerving feeling whenever they were close. Whether he liked it or not, he wasn't sure, therefore keeping him at a distance felt like the better option. "Don't take it personal, I just didn't come here to make friends."
The silence that followed was as uncomfortable as it was perplexing; he couldn't possibly have taken it that bad, right? It wasn't like Arthur had given him any misleading signals. He actually hadn't showed any signs of liking the American at all, so there shouldn't be any reason for hard feelings.
Arthur's worries instantly died however, and were replaced by new ones as he felt something dip down on the left side of his bed. The pressure in the mattress increased further and Arthur could feel someone leaning over his person through the duvet, surrounding him by placing an – supposedly – arm and a leg on his other side. He stiffened underneath his cover and he willed thoughts of the lingering touch from the morning away as they uninvitedly returned. Panic struck him as he felt his cover being removed from above his head. Coolness swept over his face and he quickly shot out his left hand to grab around the intruder's arm. With the duvet removed, Arthur found himself meeting an azure blue and surprisingly concerned gaze.
"What exactly is your relationship with the Francis?"Alfred asked in a monotone voice, eyes still fixed on Arthur's.
'What? Oh, the git can't possibly be serious!' "W-what the bloody hell are you talking about? I thought we'd dropped that topic! Get off me, git!"
"But you never answered me," Alfred said with a shrug, his voice calm and casual, contrasting to the shouting Briton underneath him, "You're close, aren't you?"
"What if we are? It's none of your bloody business!"Arthur yelled, digging his nails into the other's arm, not so hard that it drew blood, but hard enough to deliver the message. He heard Alfred grunt above him, but instead of getting off him he twisted his wrist around so that he got a hold of the Briton's arm and Arthur was forced to let go of his.
"Calm down dude. I'm just asking you to answer me. You're overreacting."
"I'm overreacting? Couldn't you bloody interrogate me from your own bed?"
"You'd never answer me if I did that." Alfred pouted. "I'm just curious, okay?"
"You're more curious than for your own good then," Arthur retorted, using his free arm in an attempt to sit up and push the other away from him.
"Aww, c'mon Artie! Ya can't seriously expect me to leave it alone after what he did to ye in the hallway." He noticed the Briton's movement and countered with leaning forward himself, grinning as the other blushed and immediately lied down again.
"F-fine, yes... Yes, we were quite close. But we aren't any longer, so just forget about it."
"Okay... Exactly how close were you?"
"That's really none of your business!" Arthur could feel his face heat up further. He hadn't any idea of how the other would react if he told him – or why Alfred was asking in the first place. Sure, he seemed like a nice and non-judgemental kind of guy, but still. If they were going to share a room for the next few weeks, revealing his sexuality would be a most stupid idea. There of course was that tiny, tiny chance of Alfred being the same, but just how small was that chance? He surely didn't look gay. No, not at all. Alfred looked quite the opposite actually; like the guy who always had multiple girls surrounding him and was dating the – labelled – hottest girl in school. 'Very much like that stereotypical quarterback found in all American high school series and movies,' Arthur thought. There was no way he would tell him.
'And he's avoiding it again,' Alfred thought. Considering what he'd seen in the hallway it was actually pretty obvious that the two of them were together in the past – or at least had some kind of relationship –, but he still wanted Arthur to say it out loud to confirm his thoughts. Why was he so persistent not to tell him? An idea suddenly struck Alfred and he once again leaned in closer to the other's face. He'd wanted to test his theories about the other ever since he'd first laid eyes on him in the library. There would be consequences if he was wrong, but he figured it was worth the risk. "Please, Arthur?"
"What are you doi-!" Arthur stopped his voice as a pair of soft lips met his. It was just a simple peck, nothing too intimate or suggestive – it could probably even be considered a friendly gesture in some cultures – but Arthur's blush ten folded none the less.
"You two were dating, weren't you?"
Arthur stuttered something incomprehensible and tried to turn his head away – which turned out a bit harder than he'd imagined since the other's face was still hovering close above him. "A-are you b-b-bloody mad!"
Alfred only laughed at this. "Maybe. But you totally were, right? For how long? He doesn't really look like your type."
Arthur opened his mouth to curse him, loud and for long, when a cry echoed through the mansion, cutting both his mind and actions off. The boy above him was startled as well, and immediately flew up on his feet, gaze flicking around the room like a madman.
"Not there, not there, not there, not there!"Alfred began to chant in a frenzy.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?"Arthur asked as he'd managed to compose himself, using his elbows in order to finally sit up.
"Hey, do ya believe in ghosts?"
"What?" Arthur only stared at the taller boy as he pulled on a pair of jeans, stumbling and tripping several times because of his apparent hurry.
"Never mind... Quick, we need to see what that was. I swear I've heard it somewhere before."
"Oh, yes, of course," Arthur mumbled as he climbed off his bed, hurrying after Alfred who'd already sprinted out of the room. The thoughts that had just minutes ago been swarming around in his head were now momentarily forgotten, lost in the adrenaline that pumped through his veins as he flew down the hallways.
Once down in the lobby they found Berwald and Elizaveta, looking just as confused as them. It seemed they were either woken by the scream or had already gone to bed for they too were dressed in pyjamas.
"You heard it too, right; the scream?"Elizaveta shouted from where she stood at the other end of the room.
"Yeah, c'mon, this way," Alfred yelled as he grabbed around Arthur's wrist and hurled them off in the direction of a door (the only one slightly ajar) while gesturing for the other two to follow.
Beyond the door they found themselves running down a rather large hallway, dimly lit by a few old wall lamps. Arthur thought he caught glimpses of the paintings that had been hung up earlier, but quickly dismissed it, seeing how it was out of interest, and turned to focus on the passing rooms instead, searching intently for the source of the scream.
They soon caught sight of a small group of people who were crouching next to two sitting figures. As they got closer Arthur identified them as Matthew and Francis, the latter rubbing soothing circles on the former's back while silently chanting comforting words in his ear.
"Mattie, bro, what happened? Are ya alright?"
Matthew flinched and looked up with wide, moist eyes at the call of his name. He was trembling, shaking violently with his teeth clattering – Arthur felt shivers run up his spine by just looking at him.
Francis hesitantly rose to his feet as Alfred neared and replaced him, hugging his brother tightly and asking what was wrong. Matthew began to stutter, but didn't manage anything comprehensible, so Alfred shushed him and resumed Francis' chant.
"What is going on?" Arthur found himself asking the Frenchman as the other looked somewhat composed. Francis turned to look at him before his eyes once again fell upon Matthew.
"He said he felt tired and went back to our room. We heard the scream and found him like this." Nodding slightly, Arthur swept over the gathering with his gaze. All those who had stayed up were present, plus the four who'd just arrived together; perhaps the others hadn't heard the scream – or simply didn't bother to investigate it. There was no sign of either Rome or Germania. "Whatever it was it sure made quite an impact," Francis added, shifting his weight over to his right foot and tilting his head slightly in hesitance, "I've never seen anyone this shaken before."
"Hey Artie, you wouldn't mind if Matt slept with us tonight, right?" Arthur found his gaze back on the American who looked up at him with most concerned and pleading eyes.
"O-of course not! Why would I?" Alfred gave him an appreciative smile and a nod before rising up and helping Matthew up on his feet. "Here, I'll help as well," Arthur offered as he took the Canadian's right arm over his shoulder – Alfred steadied him in a similar manner on the boy's left side.
The small crowd of curious and worried teens was soon dismissed by Francis after the three boys left, but had they stayed they would also have noticed the tense atmosphere that hung heavily over some of the boys.
After walking back up to their room, more or less carrying the trembling Canadian up the stairs, Matthew collapsed on the floor as soon as the door shut close. Alfred immediately kneeled by his side as the shorter boy began to cry, and loud, uneven noises of sobs and hiccups filled the room. Arthur just stood silently by the side and watched, feeling utterly useless when not seeing any way to help.
"A-Al... h-he- he..." Alfred bent over his twin and patted his back soothingly, encouraging him to continue. Matthew looked up at his brother and pushed away slightly, his movement evidently reluctant, before pulling up the left arm sleeve of his red hoodie.
Alfred's eyes widened in what could be described as shock and rage, and loud gasp escaped his mouth at the sight. Two long cuts ran down Matthew's arm, crossing each other and forming a choppy 'X'. One of them looked really deep despite being a flesh wound, seeing how it didn't bleed like the other one. The second cut seemed to have just grazed his arm, but it had cut through a couple of veins, causing hot red liquid to slowly pool over his arm. The hoodie seemed to have absorbed most of it though, and its red colour disguised the wound nicely. A choked whimper escaped Matthew and he put a hand to his mouth to hide his surprise. He had noticed that it bled, but not that it was that bad.
"The fuck? Mattie, shit, bro! The hell happened? H-how" Alfred continued to stutter incomplete sentences while shaking his head in disbelief. "Who did this?"He settled on shouting but immediately regretted it as his brother flinched from the loud outburst.
Meanwhile Arthur's own eyes had widened with shock and he couldn't help but bend down himself to inspect the boy closer. Matthew was clearly alarmed by the Briton at first, but adjusted to the new presence quickly – more or less comfortable with having an as good as stranger watching him in that state.
"H-he... G-G-Gil... Gilb-Gilbert…"
"WHAT? That's the albino guy, right?" Matthew couldn't other but nod at his brother's question, once again breaking down in tears which averted his brother's attention from vengeful thoughts and back to him.
"We need to clean that... now. Can you raise your arm, Matthew? Preferably to above your head. Good. Now we need to get you to the bathroom," Arthur said, and was replied with a small nod from the bleeding teen who made an honourable attempt to rise up. The bleeding had almost stopped now, but some blood still seeped out of the cut slowly. "Alfred, do you know how to clean a wound?" The American gave a helpless sight and shook his head, muttering something that sounded like a 'no' under his breath. "Alright, help me get him to the bathroom and then go search for an adult, okay?"
Finding an adult proved to be much harder than either of the boys had thought. Or at least Alfred hadn't, he wasn't so sure about Arthur. The American had looked through what he assumed to have been the whole second floor and was now heading downstairs for the ground one. The silence in the mansion was extremely unnerving for the boy, but he couldn't bring himself to complain. After all; it would have been worse if the wood creaked, some unnatural wind blew through the halls, or doors opened and shut on their own accord. Had that been the case he would have leapt back to his room and hid beneath the blankets of his bed. But then again, he did do this for Matthew, so it would probably take more than that to make him retreat back to the warm haven.
Alfred's footsteps went silent as he stepped down from the stairs and onto a red carpet. He'd chosen to take the way he took the previous day when he met Arthur in the library. Now he was left with the decision of entering the lobby or start the search in what he assumed would be a hallway. He chose the lobby and was once again faced with many options. Figuring that he needed to hurry, Alfred started walking towards the door which they'd earlier entered in search for the source of the scream. The door was in the same condition as earlier as well; dark, worn, and slightly ajar. Alfred pushed the door open casually in fear of it creaking, and was just about to walk through when a figure caught his eyes. Standing next to one of the walls, Alfred could only make out the person's silhouette.
"H-hey," He said and watched the person turn their head to look at him. The dull lightening made it impossible to make out their face. "Do ya know where-," Alfred began, but didn't get further for the silhouette shifted and leapt down the hallway, leaving him at an incredible speed. "HEY!"The American called out, but the person was long gone. "What the-"
Alfred kept staring off into the darkness of the hallway for a moment before once again picking up his search. Whoever they were they sure didn't deserve his attention at a time like this.
After walking through the building for approximately 15 minutes without any luck, however, he began to grow impatient and set off running instead. More than a couple of times he had to apologise to sleeping teens whom he accidently woke when knocking on wrong doors. Too caught up in the haste, the idea of asking any of them for information slipped past his mind.
Thinking he had finally searched through the entire ground floor without any success, Alfred returned back to the staircase in the lobby panting, mentally preparing himself for yet another long search. He was only halfway up the stairs when a call of his name caught his attention. Alfred turned his gaze towards the sound and found them on his roommate who was smiling rather apologetic down at him.
"I take it you couldn't find them?"
"No, but I've just checked the first and second floor," Alfred replied, "They must be on the third... or the four-"
"Matthew's asleep. We managed to clean the wound somewhat decently, so let's pick up the search tomorrow? You look like you could use some sleep."
There was a short discussion, but after assuring Alfred that his brother would be fine they both went back to their room and slept through what remained of the night.
Matthew was more composed in the morning and managed to tell them about his traumatizing encounter. He described with horror how he'd returned to his room only to realise that he followed. When he first turned around and saw Gilbert he hadn't suspected anything – why would he? It was first when Gilbert grabbed around his arm that Matthew saw the knife the albino held in his right hand. The Canadian gestured wildly in the air at how he'd panicked and tried to pull away when the first swing was made at his arm. The voice that earlier had stayed suppressed in his throat broke free as the blade cut through his flesh, and he screamed. He described how the second blow probably had been directed towards his throat or chest, but how he'd raised his hurt arm in defence and thus gaining the second cut. Gilbert had suddenly stopped his assault and made a run down the corridor. Only seconds after he disappeared round a corner Francis had come into view at the other end of the hallway and immediately rushed to Matthew's aid.
Alfred was furious and practically reeking of rage when his brother was done. They suggested that Matthew stay in the room while Alfred and Arthur went down to look for Gilbert and the project-leader. The Canadian was, however, too afraid of being left alone, so he ended up coming with them down to the dining hall.
Word about the previous evening seemed to have spread like wildfire for even those who hadn't been present greeted Matthew in a similar manner as to how Lukas was yesterday. The Canadian's gaze nervously flicked around the table, and he was relieved when he couldn't find the red-eyed German there. His Austrian roommate was present however.
"Right so about Matt's arm," Alfred began once someone put his brother's condition into notice. They'd earlier talked about how to break the news of Gilbert's assault to the rest of the group, and since Matthew refused to tell, Alfred was next in line. The American received gasps and wide eyes as he continued, not going into as much detail as Matthew had, but still somewhat specifically.
"But Gilbert followed you back to your room, did he not?"Francis asked as the American was done, turning to Roderich who looked deep in thought.
"Yes, but he then said he was going to grab something from the kitchen, so he went back..."
"Wait, so you to went back as well?"Arthur enquired. All eyes were now on the shifting Austrian.
"Yes, when Matthew left he announced that he was tired. Since he was the only one keeping me there I went back with him."
"Where is he now anyway?"Yao asked, gaze suspiciously focused on the shut doors.
"He was still sleeping when I left. His behaviour in the morning was very rude yesterday, so I didn't bother waking him."
"Let's go get him then!"Alfred announced, standing up harshly and raising his fist. "Who's with me?"
About half of the boys rose from their seats, exclaiming something like 'yeah' or 'I am'. Soon they were off with the lead of Alfred and Roderich, the latter rather uncomfortable in the front of what could be described as an angry mob, but still doing it, seeing how he was the only one who knew the way.
Those who were either not entirely convinced or thought accompanying Matthew was more important stayed though, and a tense silence hung above them as some choose to continue their breakfast.
"How is it possible...? Are you sure you were not mistaking?" Ludwig finally spoke up, pleading and helpless gaze fixed on the Canadian.
Matthew shallowly nodded before replying, "I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be mistaking someone who... who-" He swallowed and chose not to finish the sentence.
Ludwig let out a miserable sigh before burying his face in his hands, confused thoughts raging in his head, causing a throbbing headache.
"It's okay, Ludwig. I'm sure it is all a misunderstanding." The German heard the voice of his roommate say, and was thankful when he felt a warm arm being placed over his shoulder.
Gilbert yawned loudly as he made his way towards the door. 'Fucking four eyes! The damn loser just couldn't wake me, could he? How could the awesome me end up rooming with him!' In haste and frustration of realizing that he would be overly late (which was totally un-awesome) because of Roderich, he'd just grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a black t-shirt, fed his chick quickly, and kicked his roommate's suitcase before heading towards the door.
Once out in the hallway he looked around with squinted eyes. After coming to the conclusion that he'd completely forgotten which way to take, seeing how the both directions looked identical, he simply shrugged and went right.
The German hadn't even turned from the first corridor when he was surprised by voices that seemed to be approaching. The owners soon came into view as Roderich and Alfred rounded a corner just down the hallway. Gilbert obviously hadn't expected that sight, and was even further surprised as more of the boys passed the corner. All of their expressions were grim and hard, and focused solely on him. The German felt himself gulp and halt in confusion. It was him they were staring at, right? He could understand why Roderich would for various reasons, but why was a whole crew with him?
"Hey, what's up?"He asked as they got closer.
"What's up? What's fucking up? Oh, you're kiddin' me!" That was all he heard from the American before said boy's fist collided with his jaw.
With a grunt, Gilbert stumbled on the floor, his ego determined not to fall from the punch, before glaring up at Alfred who was staring at him with an equally intense gaze. He opened his mouth to say something, but instantly closed it as fire shot through his jaw. 'Fuck this guy! The hell is he doing?'
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"Gilbert barked at the blond, flinching at the pain, and hand shooting up to cover his forming bruise.
"What the hell I think I'm doing? I'm fucking revenging my brother, you stupid fuck!" Alfred's right hand curled up into a fist again which he raised and prepared for a second attack.
This time though, Gilbert was prepared, and narrowly managed to avoid the punch while ducking right. His own hands curled into knuckles and were brought up to either side of his face, his knees bending slightly; he took a loose fighting stance.
"I've got no fucking idea what you're fucking talking 'bout!"He said before lunging forwards himself, dropping below an incoming left hook, and placing a punch in the American's solar plexus. From somewhere in the crowd he could hear an exasperated 'please do not misuse the language' which he inwardly rolled his eyes at as he took a few steps back to inspect his work. Alfred had bent over, clutching his stomach, and was gasping for breath. The German would have continued with the blows if he'd known why they actually fought. 'Did he say something 'bout his brother?' "Why the fucking hell did you punch me?"
"Don't play stupid! You attacked poor Mathieu yesterday!" This time it was Francis who had spoken since their "leader" was currently unable.
"What are you talking about? I never-"
"Shit! Look at his shirt!" A Spanish accented voice called out, and instantly all eyes were staring at the albino's shirt.
The loud gasps and horror-filled expressions that followed only confused Gilbert further and he too chose to examine his shirt. It took a second for his mind to register what he saw, but as the image cleared he let out a loud shriek and stepped backwards – as if backing away would make the garment disappear. Huge bloodstains were scattered on the front of his shirt, and worse of all, Gilbert could even feel the warm liquid through the fabric, indicating that it was very much real. He rapidly pulled of the t-shirt and threw it on the floor, all while screaming out of confusion and the horrible feeling of drying blood on his skin. He felt his bare back collide with a wall as he stumbled backwards, and bent forward while bringing a bloodied hand up to his mouth – a gesture meant to stop his screams, but also a useless one, seeing how his cries continued until they'd faded into mere whimpers. There was dried blood on his chest and stomach, palms and around his mouth. It was almost impossible for him to hold back the tears that wanted to sneak past his eyes out of bewilderment, but no matter how confused he was; his pride still remained with him, so he turned to face the gaping crowd with moist, but not tear-filled, eyes.
"W-w-w-w-w-wha-" Gilbert stopped his attempt at speaking when he realised how pathetic he sounded. 'Where the fuck did that blood come from?'
He felt a sudden wave of nausea roll over him, and even though he desperately tried to stop himself, he ended up throwing up in the middle of the hallway. He heard cries of disgust from his audience, but didn't bother with them. He was too confused to put anything of what occurred together.
"A-are you alright?" Gilbert heard a concerned voice ask, and looked up to meet the dull gaze of a small Asian.
"I.." He felt the world spin around him. The pain, blood, accusations, confusion, nausea, none of it made any sense. His surroundings spun one last time before he felt his eyelids close, and he fell unconscious to the floor.
A/N
Wow, thank you so much for all the reviews and alerts! And I truly apologise for this chapter... I must admit it kind of sucks ._. Made a little progress though xD Sorry for being a bit late as well; I've been away to an internet free place (aka a relative's house) for the past week.
I'd love to hear your opinions so please leave a review! :3 Oh, and if there's a certain pairing you'd like to see please tell me, and I'll see if I can include them in some way ;3