Alfred (March 29, Wednesday)

I sprawled on my bed, staring at the ceiling and lost myself in thought. It had been a little less than a month since Matthew had discovered those papers, since I'd been able to get on the computer to look into it. For a few days after, I'd been able to get on and search in hopes of finding some sort of lead – other than those newspaper articles which provided nothing but names and a city. I'd tried to find our adoption center, which I thought was smart. However, I'd been unable to gather any information on it. And then Dad had found out that I was looking and changed the password on the computer. I'd been trying every day since to figure the password out so I could continue searching but to no avail. He was too good.

I sighed and turned over to look at the time. It was almost two-thirty in the morning. Today was going to be a long day. I sat up and glanced around my room – the desk pressed up against the wall by my door and the bookshelf next to it; my bed under the window and my bedside table to my right. My dresser was hidden in the closet, who's door was slightly ajar. It was something I saw every day. I'd get up and get dressed, hobbling around the messes I never bothered to pick up; and then leave. My door was always shut tight and locked. Mom never understood why I locked my door but it was because I didn't want anyone to come in when I wasn't there. Call me slightly paranoid but I'd lost a few things once - had left them in plain sight - before I'd started locking my door and I was afraid that something else might be confiscated.

Crossing my legs Indian-style, I reached behind me to grab my pillow and hug it to my chest. My curiosity oftentimes would get the better of me. I was sure that now was one of those times, letting myself get so upset because I couldn't trace down something with such vague information. I hadn't been letting Matthew know how frustrated I really was so I was kind of missing his moral support. As much as I liked to think that I could do things on my own, I liked it when Matthew told me I was doing well – after all, he seemed to be one of the only people in my life right now that actually cared about anything I did.

Frowning, I climbed off my bed and stumbled to my bedroom door. I paused to look back at the shadows of wreckage I'd left behind me before opening my door and shuffling down the hall two doors to Matthew's room. I didn't bother to knock, just walked in. Unlike me, it seemed that he was having no trouble sleeping tonight. I wandered to his bed and sat down next to it. Even though I was there, I wasn't sure I wanted to wake him up. What was I going to say was bothering me? But it was obvious. It was what I hadn't said to him that day he'd found our adoption papers. Then I'd excused myself from saying it by thinking, "The opportunity just isn't presenting itself." I sighed, rubbing my forehead with the heel of my hand. But everything had been pointing in that direction since. Now, here I was: sitting in my bother's room with words on my lips that I hadn't fully accepted myself yet.

"Alfred?" Matthew croaked groggily. I looked up at him. He was sort of leaning over the side of his bed, his arms barely supporting him in his sleepy state. He was waking himself up, though; his silvery blue eyes were draining of sleep with every blink. "What's wrong?" He knew me all too well.

I stood up and pushed him back into his bed. "You're going to fall," I explained when he looked at me funny. I sat on the edge of his bed. "Nothing's wrong... I just have a theory that's been bugging me." I felt fidgety, staring at my hands and avoiding his questioning gaze. "You know how I mentioned that I'd found some newspaper articles?" He focused on me a little better as I glanced at him and he nodded. "Well, they talked about how an Alfred F. Jones Bonnefoy and a Matthew Williams Bonnefoy were kidnapped twelve years ago. Their parents, Arthur and Francis, had police help for the first five years but have had to settle for 'missing persons' flyers since." His eyes were wide. "I tried to pass it all off as mere coincidence but...when I looked for our adoption center, I couldn't find it. There were no leads from the hospital we were supposedly born at either."

We were silent and I watched his expression as he tried to absorb this. Finally, he asked, "So you think we were kidnapped and then our parents had our birth certificates faked?" His voice had a sense of self-loss and yet so much skepticism. But his next question showed how much he was feeling as though he'd already lost his identity. "Do...Do you really think that?"

I struggled with myself before whispering, "I think it's a high possibility." He sighed heavily. "I wanted to look into it some more but Dad locked me out of the computer. What I really wanted to do was look at our...those kids' birth certificates. But, I know, it's impossible. However, I do know that the boys disappeared the same year we were adopted, just a month apart."

"Oh no!" Matthew whined, obviously accepting the theory faster than me - and I'd been sitting on it for a lot longer now. "Does it all match up so well?" I looked at my hands again.

I nodded. "Everything but the parents' names and our birthdays." I frowned. "I couldn't find our birth parents. Either the names matched celebrities, people who had died before we were born, or there were no records saying they'd ever lived." I risked another glance at my brother. He looked miserable. "The Bonnefoys looked like interesting people, if not more average than I'd have thought. Arthur's a history teacher at a high school just outside the town they live in - Bartlett, Kansas. He teaches world history, current events, and government and citizenship. Francis is a marriage counselor - one of two in Bartlett."

Matthew shook his head. "You couldn't possibly be thinking of hunting them down?" I didn't answer. It had crossed my mind a few times since I'd read about them. Every time, I'd think that I'd want to tell them our story and ask for a DNA test. I wanted them to prove me wrong. Or maybe I really wanted to be right. I could never tell the difference. "Alfred, that's insane! What would we say? How would they react?"

I'd thought about what to say - had gone over all the different ways to ask, over and over in my head. I hadn't thought about their reactions. "I don't know," I answered vaguely, my head bowed again. "But they're the only lead I've found."

"So? Maybe we're just not supposed to know," he suggested. I could tell, when I looked at him, that he knew I couldn't settle for that answer. We sat in the dark, in a tense silence. Both of us waiting for the other to give first. A little moonlight was filtering in through his window, which faced the west so I knew we'd been sitting here for awhile. "Do you even have a plan to get there? Do you have an address?"

"I don't have an address. But it's a small town so I'm sure someone would be able to point us in the right direction." He gave me skeptical look so I pressed on, "We'd leave in the morning, pretend to go to school but just leave instead. We'd pack my car the night before. It wouldn't be hard."

I had him there; we both knew it. "Then we'd end up in this little town, asking around. When we found them, what would we do?"

"Tell them our story. If they're as unsure as us, we get DNA tests," I answered confidently. My mind was whirring though. He was bringing up a few extra points that I hadn't quite gotten around to thinking about yet.

He smiled weakly. "You're not unsure. You already believe that you're right."

"It's a theory," I corrected him in a completely different voice and his smile vanished. His room, that had always been so comforting, now held dangers with ideas that were floating around through the dark. "I'm afraid I'm wrong. Maybe I've missed or misread something. It's scary - scary to think that our supposed birth parents are in Kansas and we're living with liars who kidnapped us. And how can they be our birth parents when they're both male?" A note of hysteria crept into my voice at the end and I broke down crying. "I'm terrified. But what else can I do? Except go and find everything out from the only two people who seemed to have a high possibility of being our only real connection..."

Matthew stared at me. Then he sat up and hugged me, almost instantly stopping my tears. "You're right..." he whispered, letting go but setting a hand on my arm."We have to go - if for no reason except to be disappointed." I laughed at that. "Or to be really confused."

"No in between?" I teased, elated. He grinned.

"Go to bed. We'll pack tomorrow after school, okay?" I nodded and hopped off his bed. At the door, he said, "I'm crazy for hoping this works, aren't I?"

"Only as crazy as me, bro." I closed the door behind me and crept back to my room. I tried to be quiet heading to bed but ending up loudly crashing to the floor after slipping on a piece of paper. It was probably homework, with my luck. But I didn't care. Because tomorrow, Matthew and I would leave for Kansas. We would leave this behind for an old life with new possibilities.

My dreams were of butterflies and birds, all flying toward space. Below them, their cages lay dormant and bent.

~XxX~

Matthew (April 1, Sunday)

The highway stretched out in front of us, seeming as though it would never end. We'd been on the road all day, only stopping at gas stations to go to the bathroom. We'd had to stop twice for ice already. I was getting squirmy but not quite bored yet. There was a lot of new scenery that I'd never thought I'd want to see before. We'd left the state early this morning, had headed though Mississippi, and were almost to Memphis, Tennessee now. Alfred was fairly confident that we'd reach Arkansas by tonight – as traffic through a few towns had been rather annoying. Mississippi had still had all the green from Alabama but as we had reached the border, we had started leaving the trees behind.

There weren't any towns out this way, just a few scattered farms. I made my own fun for awhile by naming several cows across from a gas station we happened upon. Mostly, I daydreamed and flipped through radio stations. Alfred liked to comment on the names of the stations, the deejays, and the music. He rarely had anything nice to say so when we got reception, I'd coax him into rants that we both ended up laughing at.

For the most part, I was enjoying the time with my brother. We'd always been each other's best friend but out in no-man's land, we could talk for hours. Once, we complained about the Anderson's parenting skills for two hours. Then we proceeded to joke about "what could be worse" for another hour or so. We'd both been pretty quiet for awhile now. For me, getting farther and farther from Alabama made this more and more real. I was starting to fear the consequence of going home if this was a bust. But every time I got too close to a panic attack, Alfred seemed to sense it and he'd find something to say to distract me.

I noticed, as we drove into Memphis, however, that I didn't need distracting. This city was plenty distracting. With the sun setting, lights were flicking on and bringing the city to life again. It wasn't quite what I'd imagined it to be but, at the same time, it was exactly what I'd imagined it to be. I leaned against the window, trying to soak up as much as I could as we passed through. People were coming out for the clubs that were just opening for the night; others were heading home from a long day at work. Random shops closed down for the night; other places were lighting up, inviting people inside. Alfred laughed and I looked over at him. "What?"

"You remind me of an overly curious dog, trying to stick his head out the window," he answered happily. "Will your ears flap in the wind too?" I ignored that but decided not to press up against the window again. I settled on staring out the windshield again, which had a view just as impressive. His laughter died rather quick and he sighed. "Sorry. I was kidding…"

"I know," I told him in a rather exasperated tone. I wasn't really ticked so I tried to change the subject, make my tone lighter. "We've been driving all day. We're in the middle of a city. Wanna stop and grab something to eat?"

Alfred glanced at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Yeah, I guess we should. I don't remember if there are anymore towns coming up or not…" He took an exit that led us a little deeper into the city, looking for a McDonald's, I was sure. I watched the buildings fly by in a slight blur, trying to pick out the restaurant.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked, sick of the silence. I felt like there should be more noise but I was unwilling to turn on the radio. "Sorry I wasn't much fun. I'm getting nervous."

Alfred smiled, looking relieved. "Oh, good. Because my nerves are all attacking each other. I'm not sure I'm very hungry - or am willing to eat for fear that I'll lose it all later." He laughed but it was weak. Our emotions were often in tune like this; years of communicating silently paying off. "But I'll eat just because I know I'll regret it later if I don't."

"I've got pretty much the same idea," I replied, making him smile again. There wasn't much more to say, however, as we pulled into a McDonald's parking lot. Seconds after Alfred had parked, we both jumped out of the car gratefully and laughed at each other's overenthusiastic expressions. Eager to be out of the car, we raced each other inside. "We need to make more stops," I told him, trying to catch my breath. I couldn't begin to fathom how he could still laugh so heartily.

X x X

After Memphis, it was Arkansas. We arrived later than Alfred thought and so we had to drive longer to find a town. I dozed off several times as there wasn't much to look at except for a few cacti every once in awhile and Alfred had to stop for an armadillo crossing the street some three or so hours ago. At one point, I had to pull out a soda for my brother and then switch places with him so that I could drive and he could sleep. After shifting to a very awkward looking position in which he had his back against the window and his feet still on the ground under the dashboard, he feel into a deep sleep that I was amazed at. As I drove, I wondered what would happen if the Bonnefoys really were our parents. It was a question that Alfred and I had touched briefly on earlier in the day but it still plagued my mind. I came up with several different possibilities: they'd be angry, they'd be happy, they'd be both, they wouldn't listen, and I kept going. It didn't help my nerves at all.

It was as silent outside the car as it was inside. And it made me nervous for some reason. Ever since I was little, I had always been told that I had an overactive imagination and that I could make the most peaceful situations seem scary. I didn't doubt that now. With my thoughts on how I was running headlong into the unknown, everything made me want to pull over and turn on all the lights or turn around and head home. But I'd promised Alfred that I'd see this out. And, as much as I didn't want to admit it, I needed to go. I knew that I had to find out if Alfred's theory was correct or not. I had to get myself back. Ever since he'd actually suggested that we'd been kidnapped, I'd felt like I'd lost who I was. I wasn't sure who my parents were or where I was born now. Was I even sure my birthday and age were right? That thought made me glance around to make sure I was alone on the road, for fear that I might be younger and maybe someone would find that out.

I passed a sign that directed me to get off at the next exit to get to a town called "Marked Tree". Making a face, I followed the directions and pulled out onto a road called "Frisco". I had to stifle my laughter at the name and instantly blamed Alfred for the direction of my thoughts. It took what felt like forever before I finally found the only motel in the town. At first, it looked too run down for me to want to stay. Then I glanced at Alfred and became too jealous of his deep sleep to pass up the chance to check in. I caught the receptionist right before she started shutting things down for the night. For being so late, she grinned brightly at me. While I paid for the room, she forced me into small talk of sorts that I found myself deeply uninterested in - especially after I realized she was trying to flirt. That annoyed me. But it was probably partly because I was so tired. Eventually, she handed me my key and I headed outside to wake Alfred up.

He was a deep sleeper, even in the awkward position he was in. After trying to shake him awake, I gave up and went to his side and opened his door. He flailed as he almost fell out. "What'd you do that for?" he shouted, upset as he tried to get back into his seat.

"You wouldn't get up and I got us a room. Come on, help me get the stuff out," I answered, going to the back and opening the door. I pulled out my suitcase and my backpack. Once he had climbed out, he managed his backpack, suitcase, and one of the two coolers. I grabbed the other, shut the door, and locked the car. Then we headed inside to get some sleep.

X x X

The next morning, Alfred and I packed slowly to prolong having to get back into the car. But, at last, we admitted defeat. I argued with Alfred until I was sitting in the driver's seat. Initially, he'd wanted to drive but I told him that it was my turn to drive all day. I found a gas station where we bought ice and traded the water in the coolers for the bags. Then we bought a few breakfast items there but ended up eating sandwiches for the main course. I was happier now that I was rested and somewhat full. Facing the Bonnefoys didn't seem so scary now. "It's supposed to be less than an hour drive from here," Alfred told me, his voice bright. "Do you think we can make it with no stops?"

I grinned. "As long as neither of us drink too much and we can go when we get there." He agreed enthusiastically. As we left, I turned on the radio and let Alfred make fun of every country song that came on. Through Arkansas and Missouri, we talked about what life was like back in Montgomery because we were gone; ate some and drank a little. It wasn't until we crossed the Kansas border that our nerves started making our stomachs roll again. We followed signs until we drove into Bartlett. "Where should we go?" I asked hesitantly.

He looked around and then said, "Let's go to that grocery store. We can go to the bathroom and find some food and ask the cashier where to find them." I nodded weakly and maneuvered into a small grocery store's parking lot. We sat in the car several minutes after I'd cut the engine. But our need to go to the bathroom eventually got us to go inside the store.

Afterward, we wandered around inside, trying to find cheap snacks because I was sure our funds were running low. "Can I help you?" a young woman asked brightly, appearing at the end of the aisle we were in.

I glanced at Alfred and he approached her with a friendly grin. "Yes; my name is Alfred F. Jones – that's my brother, Matthew Williams – and we're looking for either or both Arthur and Francis Bonnefoy. Could you tell us where we could find them?"

She stared blankly at him, her brown eyes wide with some sort of realization. For some reason, I acknowledged her more than I had the last girl I'd come in contact with. This one had golden brown hair and a curved figure. But she looked out of place in a dress, working in this grocery store. Sweeping her hair over her shoulder with her right hand, she finally said, "Um, well, they're both at work now. Arthur should be home around four. I don't remember when Francis will be back. But feel free to hang around here until then. I can give you an address later."

Alfred hesitated a moment before announcing, "That would be great! Thanks so much!" My opinion on the matter was conflicted. On the one hand, being out of the car for so long would be a huge relief. But lack of things to do for three hours would drive me mad. And I wasn't so sure I liked the girl much.

"Elizabeta?" a male voice called from somewhere up front. The girl gave us one last glance before scuttling off.

Alfred turned back to me and said in a low voice, "She makes me nervous…"

"Gilbert!" Elizabeta cried. Alfred and I walked to the end of the aisle to see a boy about our age standing at the entrance of the store. He was tall and proud-looking with wild, silver hair. But at that moment, he looked like a deer caught in headlights with his scarlet eyes wide. Alfred and I exchanged a curious and slightly worried glance.

"Oh, Elizabeta," he replied, voice surprised but rather subdued. "I didn't know it was your shift today. Does that mean Roderich is here too?"

Elizabeta made an annoyed face. "Yes, it does. So which class are you skipping today?"

Gilbert considered this and then answered, "Mr. Kirkland's class."

"What do you have against current events?" she inquired, walking to the checkout area.

He shrugged. "Most of it is too much of a bummer for me. Are you really going to call him?"

"Yes. Better than your grandfather, igen?" She had a scolding tone in her voice now.

"Barely," Gilbert snapped, but clearly defeated. "Well, I'm going to get food then. That's why I was back here anyway."

I pulled back and looked at Alfred. "So Arthur goes by Mr. Kirkland at school?"

"I guess so. Maybe? He's one of two teachers who teach that subject though," my brother answered, sounding confused. "Maybe he's afraid of getting confused with Francis – which sounds like a funny thought. Wait until you see them. I saw their pictures in the newspaper I found online way back when. They look nothing alike. I'm sure that if he really wanted to, Arthur could go by Mr. Bonnefoy at school."

I rolled my eyes. "You're only slightly enthusiastic." Alfred grinned. "Anyway, why don't we get some food and explore the town a little?"

"Not much to see," Gilbert commented in a bored tone. I jumped, having not realized he'd walked over. He was facing the shelves but kept glancing at us. His eyes scared me.

"I'm sure!" Alfred boomed with a laugh that made me flinch. I still wasn't used to his outward persona. "But we have lots of time to kill so we're going go find out for ourselves."

Gilbert shrugged, a slight smile playing at his lips. "Whatever. Have fun in crazy town then." Somehow, I didn't find that very funny.

~XxX~

Author Notes: Well, I do have a reason for introducing Gilbert so early on. And because the "I still wasn't used to his outward persona" line might confuse you: Alfred is quieter and calmer around Matthew than around everyone else in the world. Besides himself, Matthew knows Alfred the best. And this is killer chapter two. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or characters thereof.