Chapter 2: Consequences
It was three in the afternoon when Alfred finally dragged himself out of bed. No matter how sad and angry he was, he needed food. Slumping down the stairs, he made his way over to the fridge. Remembering the note, Alfred dug the pancakes out of the back, tossed them into the microwave and drowned them in maple syrup. Just the way Matt always liked them. Tears slipped down his already stained face. Matt was technically older by three days, due to complications during their birth, but Alfred always considered him a 'baby brother' and had promised to protect him, always. He had failed. He didn't protect Matt, he didn't even notice the sadness that his poor brother must have felt for who knows how long.
Alfred ate the slices of heaven as slowly as he possibly could, wishing to savor every last bit of the last meal Matt had left for him. Arthur entered the kitchen; nothing about him would even suggest the horrible things he had said. It disgusted Alfred. This man felt no guilt, or if he did, he didn't feel nearly enough. Alfred sent him a death glare, picked up his pancakes and went to his bedroom. Clearing a place in the middle of his desk, the blue-eyed boy set his plate down and stared at it, as if looking at it hard enough would reveal where Matt had gone.
An idea sprang to his mind. Grabbing his cell phone, Alfred punched in a number he knew like the back of his hand. It didn't even ring before it played; "This was the phone of Matthew Bonnefoy-Kirkland. I will not be answering at any time, so don't bother leaving a message. Alfred, if this is you, I love you, but forget about me and move on with your life. If this is Francis or Arthur" He said the name with disgust, "you had no right to even try to call me, rot in hell, you loathsome swine. BEEEEP"
"Matt?" Alfred said desperately into the receiver, "You probably won't get this but I miss you, okay? Where are you? Why did you leave? Please come home. I love you. Bye." He sighed, so much for that plan. After standing aimlessly for a moment, Alfred decided that, perhaps, some television would keep his mind off the internal pain. He flopped into his soft bean-bag and felt something hard pressing into his back. Using his left arm, the blonde reached behind himself and grabbed a small box, wrapped in Prussian blue tissue paper, and tied with white ribbon. The blonde boy opened it slowly, unsure of what to expect. In his palm lay a mid-sized black ring box. Confused and hesitant, Alfred lifted the lid carefully, as if he expected whatever was inside to jump out and bite him. There it sat, overt ageist the white satin, shining in the afternoon sun. A simple gold cross hung on a thin gold chain. Alfred recognized it instantly. Matthew had been given the cross by their grandmother.
Matthew, clad in an unwrinkled tuxedo, walked toward the woman in the wheel chair. Today was special for him, he was getting confirmed. The elderly woman stared up at him calculatingly.
"Bend down, child. I have something for you." Brianna Kirkland's features portrayed a rare genuine smile as she handed Matthew the delicate chain, and stayed true as he pulled back his jaw-length blonde hair and fastened the necklace around his neck.
Three days later, Brianna Kirkland died. Matthew had worn the cross every day since, along with their grandfather's military Purple Heart.
"Please return your seats to the upright position and fasten your seat belts, the plane will be landing soon. Thank you."
Matthew glanced around blearily. After a few moments of morning amnesia did as the attendant instructed over the intercom, making sure all of his belongings were packed and ready. He was here, he was finally here.
The large glass doors to the international terminals slid open, as he stepped through, Matthew left behind his old life, allowing it to join all his other soon to be forgotten memories. When the boy looked around he was expecting to see his new mother. He was not expecting to see her holding an oversized sign reading "WELCOME HOME MATT!" He smiled happily. This really was home.
A woman, in her late-twenties, with glossy, curling brown hair, caring dusty silver eyes, a soft chin, and arched eyebrows. Her nose was slightly bulbous, but she was still quite beautiful. She wore no makeup, and there were negligible bags under her eyes, suggesting that she had been sleeping recently. Her name was Michelle Williams, and today she was meeting her son face to face for the first time. She was as excited as any new mother, and grinned enthusiastically.
The airport was not crowded, so Michelle had no problem spotting a boy with silken blonde hair, glasses perched on his delicate nose. She waved the enormous sign she carried, hoping to catch his attention. Matthew looked towards her and grinned joyously, hastening over to her side.
Michelle stood patiently at the extensive doors to the international terminals. It was a bit of a hassle, but customs were customs. Even though it was still early in the morning, the sun just breaking over the dusty hoisin, people trickled out sporadically. The 31-year-old scanned the group; it really couldn't be called a crowd. She clutched the large sign I her hands, trying to spot her new son. Catching a glimpse of undulant blond hair she waved it above her head, smiling brightly.
"How was your flight?" Her voice was musical and rich.
"Not bad, I slept through most of it." They stood for an awkward moment before she laughed and suggested they head to her car. The ride was stiff and quiet, neither party quite knowing what to say. The blue pick-up slowed to a stop in front of a two story cream colored home with russet trimming. Matthew yawned widely.
"Why don't I show you your room and give you the grand tour later, after we've both had some more sleep." Michelle suggested friendly. Matt smiled sheepishly and nodded. They each took a suitcase and Matt grabbed his backpack. The two entered the modest house and she led him to a fair-sized room, it had off white walls with a pine desk, dresser, and bed, with Tiffany blue bedding and curtains on the clean windows. Matt thanked his mother and proceeded to flop onto his bed. It was extremely comfortable, probably memory foam.
Several hours later Matt's eyelids glided open. He blinked, slowly coming to his senses. The alluring aroma of bacon drifted to his nose and made his stomach rumble. Stretching, Matt rolled out from under the incredibly warm blankets and stumbled to the door. He followed his nose to a humble but modern kitchen, with walls and counters in neutral, earthy tones. "Good morning." Michelle greeted from the stove,
"Morning" He replied. Michelle turned, placing a steaming plate of bacon in front of him as he sat on a tall stool. Matt picked up a piece and blew on it before placing it in his mouth experimentally. Matt had never eaten bacon before, Arthur couldn't cook anything edible, and the rare times that Francis had made it, Alfred had devoured it all before it was even on the table. The crispy, marbled strip had an indescribably wonderful taste on Matt's tongue. His face split into a wide smile. "Like it?" Michelle asked, amused.
"It's delicious!" Matt responded enthusiastically.
After breakfast she gave him a tour, the house was nothing too fancy, but was stylish and had a homely feel. It had three bedrooms, Michelle's, Matt's and a guest, two bathrooms, a living room with a fireplace, the kitchen, a dining room, and Matt's favorite, a sun porch that had been converted into an art studio, with large easels and every color of paint imaginable.
A festive Christmas tree was set up in the living room and two days later Matt unwrapped a new pair of ear buds, the best present he had gotten in years. He gave Michelle a soft, fashionable, sweater with roses embroidered on the hems. That night was the most terrific either of them had had in a long time. A few days later Matt went to bed excited and nervous for the morning, his first day at a new school.
AN: Thank you for reading. I know it's pretty short but this will be about average chapter length, sorry. Please review if you have any questions or critiques or anything like that.
Francis: France
Arthur/Angleterre: England/Britain/Uk
Alfred/Freddie: America/U.S.A.
Matthew/Matt/Mathieu: Canada
Michelle: not a Hetalia character or OC, just a woman.
Does anyone have a suggestion for a title for this chapter?
Thanks again, please R+R.