Here's another chapter! Whoo!

Now to work on a special FrUk Fic for my FAVE READER! ;) You know who u are babe!

And of course try to figure out "We Were There Once." lol.

Tell me how you like this. Its gonna get better, this transition chapter was alittle weird, sorry. :(

It was nearing dusk, with the sun tipping over the horizon , seeming to fall right off the edge of the neighborhood as it disappeared behind the thicket of woods. It was casting orangish rays onto the streets, the air stifling and a little cool, wispy almost as the trees shivered together, whispering about what had happened on the cul-de-sac that afternoon with the crinkle of fall leaves and hearty green ferns.

My hands were wringing themselves around a shoulder strap of an army bag that held a few articles of Al's clothes, the sound of twisting leather soft and a little unnerving as I waited for Alfred. My sister had been nice enough to offer to let him stay with us if he wanted, but for some reason, Alfred had shaken his head, with a pretty, thankful smile on his face. My sister promised he would always have a place in our house if he needed, and went back to her prayers for his father's soul.

Her sweet voice asking God to pardon the dead man was infuriating to Alfred, I could see it as he turned away from her so starkly and put in his head phones.

He looked drenched in sadness when he stood by himself in the group of people who were milling about, all on separate agendas to get things done. There was the sorting of Alfred's new home with his other parent, the deeper investigation of the house, the moving of the body, the cleaning, the report.

For a second, a flittering thought stroked at my brain, dark and deceptive, collected and nipping as my eyes widened at the possibilities.

'Had Alfred witnessed it? Or had he simply walked in to see the horrific crime?' I shivered a bit as a gust of wind wrapped itself around me, calling out to Alfred just as a car I've never seen before pulled into the drive way.

A man decked in a fine suit stepped out, a Valentine red tie knotted at his throat, hair pulled classily back into a small ponytail, waves of it falling a little loose as he brushed his bangs from his eyes by pulling his dark sun glasses up.

He searched around a bit, his gaze looking like feint summer skies, so clear and almost watery with emotion. At the sight of Alfred, he picked up pace and ran to him, taking him tightly in his arms and brushing his hands over his hair. I could see his lips muttering something to him, though Alfred just leaned his head on the man's shoulder in a tired, given up way.

I was hesitant on approaching the softening scene, wondering what this man had to do with my Alfred, but one foot came after the other, and as I neared them, the man's voice was coming clear to me.

"Mon Dieu, Alfred, come here baby, are you hurt?" I saw concern in his eyes as he swept a look over Alfred's face, a quick hand pulling at Al's knotted hair and untangling the curls with parental care. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to come live with us, but Mathieu said that he had talked to you over the phone and that you wanted to come home ." Something about his voice reminded me of white lace and sweet wine, his arms again enclosing around Alfred.

Somewhere deep inside me I was jealous that Alfred held so readily to him.

I didn't know who he was, but I wanted him gone, this didn't concern him.

Or did it?
"Ivan." Came Alfred's voice like a life raft out at sea. "Ivan, meet my um...meet Francis." There was an awkward pause as Francis looked down to Alfred in contemplation and then to me, holding out a hand to shake.

I took it halfheartedly, eyeing him as he pressed closed lips to Alfred's forehead.

"While Alfred lives with us, you may visit whenever you like, I won't mind. And I bet Mathieu would love to meet such a close friend to Alfred." He was meaning to be polite and caring, but I couldn't get past the fact that this stranger was so familiar with Fredka, so comfortable and loving with him, so easy to take him away from me.

Suddenly, Al reached over to me, fingers tangling in my scarf and pulling me to him, so close still to Francis that I could smell his cologne, something subtle and expensive on his suit.

I wasn't reluctant to hold him, arms crossing behind him and falling to his waist, breathing slow against him as he wiped the beginnings of tears on my shirt. I kissed him readily in front of Francis, hopefully showing that I cared for my Alfred, that I loved him, and I was all he needed.

I heard a laugh like church bells, and turned to see Francis with thick tears filming his eyes as he started to cry into a handkerchief he had pulled from his sleeve like some magician. Alfred chocked a laughable sob out as well, hand clapping him on the back.

"Such the drama king, Papa."

My eyes shot over to Alfred who had just called this man "Papa."

"Oh, baby boy, you don't understand adults," he wiped at his eyes with the cloth, the embroidered rose looking so dainty against his cheek. "But I need to talk to Vash. You wait right here." Francis looked about and finally laid eyes on the hardened officer, waving his attention to him and walking off.

Alfred gave a side lopped try at a smile and answered my confused look an answer without a second glance. "He was married to my dad a long time ago. Francis' sister was my mom, so technically he's my uncle, but since my mom died during child birth, and Francis was already a year and half into an affair with my father, he took me in." There was a shrug on his shoulders, something I was yearning to see, because that meant he was back to his old habits, and things were close to normal, but he didn't shrug. Just took a deep breath...held it for a long, pondering moment...and let it roll out.

"There must be something Freudian about all of it, but I don't mind. Francis is like my mom. He looks like her, and smells like her, like rose water and fine perfume, and clean vanilla sheets. Or at least that's what dad used to say."

Again, I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came. What are you supposed to say at times like this?

"I think it's ok Alfred." My hand cupped one of his budding hips and pulled him closer to me, side by side as if to make a wall as we looked toward the horizon where the sun was still rolling off into space.

I was glad that I could feel him, each time he breathed, each shiver that racked his body as it began to chill, his cheek against my shoulder so I could feel his words on my skin.

"No it's not. It's not ok. There's a man in my house whose bathed in red, and Francis is grieving for a man who never loved him, and I'm moving so many miles away that your window is only going to be a tiny dot against the back drop, like one star in a million. And no matter how much your sister prays or how much Francis cries into his pillows, and no matter how many strings we all have, things are not going to be ok."

I was hoping that there'd be more hot, shimmering tears on his eyes so I might have been able to kiss them away like all t he movie star couples did, but Alfred seemed all cried out, instead, closing his heavy eyes as if to sleep.

I watched the world around us as it was mingling so effortlessly, cars pulling out to check back in at the station, the soft words of Katka coming from Alfred's front porch where she was giving her sincerest condolences to Francis, Vash's harsh tone sounding like gravel as he explained to the paramedics what to do, and of course, the sound of breaking as Alfred shouldered the world with thoughts of strings and suicide. If the world was made of sting, then this was a tangled yarn ball that kept rooling dangerously close the end of the line.

"Ivan?"

"Yes?" "I just wanted to make sure you were still here."

I bent my head to lean on his to show that I was still there with him, like an anchor in these fleeting times. Tears welled up thick and prickly in my throat as I tried to hold back any emotion and pressed my lips to the top of his head, just as Alfred bent to hide in the crook of my neck. Again, I sheltered him from everything that the world had tried to pull out on him.

"Alfred?"

I was caught off guard as I heard the French lilt in Francis' voice, pulling away as if to uncage Al and let him loose.

"Alfred, love, we have to go now." A long arm came out and rested comfortingly on his cheek, thumb brushing at the stray tears. "Tell your friend good bye."

I nodded in recognition at Francis, the lump in my throat keeping me from saying anything more to him, even though I saw utter grief collecting behind his blue eyes like a rushing river behind a glass dam. His only love had killed himself.

Did that cut strings to?

Alfred, who always came off bold and brash, felt so uncharacteristically breakable against me as he caressed me, taking fistfuls of the back of my shirt as he said good bye, almost like he was afraid I'd let go.

He kissed me three times.

Once on my shoulder as he spoke about coming back, and again on my cheek when he talked about me visiting.

And just as he had held me at arm's length to get on last good look at me he pulled me roughly into a deep kiss, startling me as he moved so fervently against me. His hands felt like those from the dream as I kissed him close eyed, barely opening my mouth to feel his soft, sorrowful one beneath mine.

"Remember Ivan..." came his panting voice as he rested his forehead on my shoulder, licking at his lips as if to taste me, and I shivered at the pure passion between us. "We live in a paper town with strung up people. Be careful about what you burn and what you cut."

Again came his riddles, and without a second glance back my way he rushed to the car and slammed the door, cracking my world completely in two as he fled, gone and far away from the silent house, the red room, and the palpable stench of death.

I still didn't know what he meant, but I did know one thing for sure.

Letting Alfred go this time was cutting a string.

And by the time I saw him next, I'd cut four more.

A little spoiler...

Matthew is is the next chapter, so brother love, some more secrtes, and more broken strings. Are yall ready?

Tell me what you guys think. Be honest. :)

With hugs,

Suga Bee