Alfred paused for a second before determinedly pressing the buttons on his cell and putting the phone to his ear. It was about time he did this, so he might as well get another person help him through the emotional onslaught. "Answer your damn phone..." He grumbled as it continued to ring.

Picking up, Ismael didn't even bother looking at who was calling. No one else would bother phoning him on a Saturday, since he didn't work on the weekends, and he had pushed all his other contacts out of the way long ago. "What do you want?"

"Well aren't you a brilliant ray of sunshine." Alfred mocked, pacing in front of Matthew's room. "I need you to get here as soon as you can. It's not an emergency per say, you just need to be here."

Sighing, Ismael looked around the room. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't had anything better to do. "Fine. I'll head over there now." He hung up and went to get his keys. It was too cold to walk.

When he heard the doorbell, Alfred opened it with a straight face. "I can't do this alone so I got you to come here." Urging the confused Cuban to Matthew's bedroom door, he pointed. "I want to clean it out; get a fresh start and all. I figured you'd want to help since I figured you're entitled to just as much as I am from here."

Looking around, Ismael let out a very small smile. "I thought you never wanted to go in here." He remembered so long ago when he had been forbidden to go into the beige coloured room. It looked exactly like he remembered it, right down to the perfectly made bed with the white stuffed bear on top.

"Yeah well, I changed my mind." And it was about time too, since he couldn't even go near it without feeling depressed, thus why he spent so much time at Ismael's; at least, that's what he told himself. Grabbing a box from beside the door, he handed it to Ismael. "Whatever you want to keep, just put it in the box."

Nodding, Ismael went to open up the dresser, figuring that would be a place to start. "What are you going to do with everything? Sell it?" It would be sad to see everything go, but it needed to be done. This would be good for both of them, and would be what Matthew would want.

"I'm not really sure right now. All I know is that I want to get it out of here and maybe keep a few things just to remember him." Alfred explained, immediately going to the bed to pick Kumajirou up. It still smelt like his brother which made him tense up, but it was still comforting.

Nodding, Ismael looked through Matthew's things, putting them in the boxes that were piled up around the room. He grabbed a hockey stick that had been shoved into the corner, and smiled. Matthew had always told him stories of when he used to play hockey in high school.

Not really watching the Cuban, Alfred continued to grab a few things -a signed poster of the Montreal Canadians and a sweater that he used to wear all the time to name some- before putting them in his own box. "If that's it then we can put the rest in boxes to go into storage or something."

Taking down a large Canadian flag that hung on the wall, Ismael folded it up nicely before putting it in his own box. He then looked in one of the drawers to start there, and was surprised to find a small cheap ring. He picked it up, smiling. "I got him this on our first date, because we stopped at a dollar store and it was his birth stone. I can't believe he kept it!" He added that to the growing pile in his box, on top of the flag.

"Well he was a bit of a sentimental fool." Alfred nodded sagely before looking around for anything else that would help him keep Matthew in his heart without making him break down every day. All he could think of was his obsession with maple syrup and pancakes, but it wasn't really anything he could keep. "But yeah, I have some more boxes in my room for stuff we could sell or give away.."

"Alright. Get them, because these boxes are already full." Just being in this room again was bringing back memories. Matthew never wanted to do anything when Alfred was home, obviously, but he had been fine if they were alone. In fact, while Alfred was out of the room, there were probably a few things under the bed that he should hide.

Looking over to Ismael as he went out of the room, he asked, "Do you want to keep more stuff?" Because he couldn't care less about anything except for the couple objects that mostly reminded him of his brother and his likes. Hockey, pancakes, his bear and a couple other knickknacks from different memories the two shared.

Sighing, Ismael had one more look over the room. "I don't think so." Well really he would like to keep it all, but he knew that they were doing this so they could let it go. Matthew would still always be a part of their minds, but they had to move on.

"'Kay, sounds good." With that, he brought in the boxes. "Maybe we should separate it into things we could sell and give away. Cause I don't think a lot of this is worth much other than to Matt." Because really, he had some weird stuff. A piece of an asteroid that hit down near the town in Alberta that he was born and a button from their father's doctor uniform in the war being a few examples.

They started going through everything, putting them in separate boxes. It was kind of strange. Matthew seemed like the type of person who would have everything organized. When you first looked at his room, that is what it looked like, but once you looked in the drawers or under the bed, you saw that he just hid the mess.

Once they were almost done, Alfred sat down on the corner of Matt's bed and sighed. "You know, I thought this would be more painful, but it actually feels good. Kinda like cleaning out the attic, but with way more things you think might hurt you but instead make you smile."

Understanding, Ismael put away the last of the clothes. "It would have hurt a month ago." Hell, it probably would have hurt last week. Maybe they actually were moving on with their lives, after being stuck in the past for so long.

Alfred just nodded, looking around the now bare room save for the boxes. "Thanks." He murmured, refusing to look at Ismael. "I really couldn't have done this without you. Not only would it have been painful, but I don't think that it would have been nice to just get rid of all his stuff without letting you go through it."

"Yeah, thanks for calling me." Ismael said quietly, looking at the ground and in turn, the boxes. "Do you... want me to help take these out?" He had nothing to do all day, since he wasn't working, so it didn't matter really.

Standing up, he replied. "Sure, it'd help." He had nowhere but the living room to keep them, so they might as well get rid of it now. "Not to sound girly or weak or anything, but I actually don't want to rip off your head right now. Strange, huh?"

Laughing weakly, Ismael picked up a box. "Matthew always did want us to get along." He doubted very much that they could ever be considered friends, but he wouldn't mind calling Alfred his acquaintance. They were no longer enemies, even if they didn't really go well together.

Taking another box, Alfred added. "But I still don't like you. I've just found a way to tolerate your presence." Or maybe it was because they had something in common that was eating both of their lives bit by bit.

"Whatever." Ismael grunted, but he still had a small smile on his face.