Matthew was standing on a street that he didn't recognize. Confused, he glanced around the neighbourhood with a grim fascination. The houses all looked the same and the air dripped with the heavy feeling of thick, morbid silence. It was deafening but at the same time Matthew was straining his ears to hear anything. Through the smog at the end of the street he saw three figures appear. He reached for his gun but it wasn't there.

The figures were hard to make out, as they were far away and much to the hitman's chagrin he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. The figures got closer, though, and before he could make out the shine of a gun, a bullet pierced his right shoulder. Matthew's eyes widened as a terrible shock of pain ripped through his nervous system. Before he could recover from the first shot another rang out and hit his left knee causing him to buckle and slump to the ground. What the hell was going on? He looked up to see the three figures standing in front of him, faces now clear.

Matthew let out a sob. The faces of his Dad, Papa, and younger brother were glaring back at him with grim frowns in place. He also noted that Francis' and Arthur's pistols were still smoking from the earlier shots which throbbed in reminder of their existence. Alfred looked down the bridge of his nose at Matthew as if he was disgusted with the man. The oldest felt, more than saw, the gun being positioned on his forehead.

"You're worth less than the dirt on my shoes." Alfred sneered before pulling the trigger.

Matthew woke with a start, lurching upwards in his bed at the same time as the alarm went off. God damn. That nightmare was pretty intense. Much too intense for Matthew. He scrubbed at his face with his hands and got out of bed. He walked down the hall to the shower, thanking all that was above that the washroom was located on the other side of the house. That way no one would hear him get ready. He showered, got dressed into a faded blue hoodie and loose jeans, slipped on his glasses, and made his way back to his room.

Once he arrived he gathered his briefcase, 'hockey' bag, wallet, and note. He stumbled down the stairs quietly and made his way to the kitchen. Left the note there and grabbed the car keys that were dangling on the hooks beside the door. That is, until his hand reached out and grabbed nothing. His face blanched as he turned to see that the hook was, indeed, absent of car keys. Matthew heard a jingle from behind him and whipped around reaching for his gun out of habit. When he realized it was Alfred, however, his hand immediately dropped from where it was to his side.

Alfred was standing about halfway down the stairs and was still dressed in pyjamas, hair sticking every which way. The way he had to look down at Matthew reminded him of his nightmare and he had to suppress the urge to convulse at the memory.

"Mattie, where are you going?" His younger brother asked expression something akin to a kicked puppy. Matthew sighed at the watery blue eyes.

"Al, I need to go for a bit. But I will be back soon." He said sadly. Alfred's tears escaped his eyes and started dripping down his cheeks.

"Mattie, no! What you're doing is dangerous and I can't let you do it because I-I'm the h-hero damn it!" He whispered harshly voice cracking at the end. Matthew could feel tears prickling the backs of his eyes.

"Alfred, I have to do this. Please, give me the keys. I will tell you, Dad, and Papa everything when I get back tonight." The oldest promised. Alfred wiped away the tears on his face and looked at his brother before silently rushing down the stairs and throwing his arms around Matthew's shoulders. The violet-eyed man wrapped an arm around the other's' waist and his other arm came up so he could pet the short blonde hair of his younger brother.

"Promise me you'll tell us."

"I promise."

"Promise me you'll live." There was a hesitation.

"I promise." Matthew replied as confidently as he could manage. Alfred seemed to accept it and gave Matthew one last squeeze before letting go and holding the keys out. The pale teen took them from the other's grip and leaned in planting a kiss on Alfred's forehead. "I'll be back." Matthew swore against the tanned skin before gathering his things and walking out of the house with one final wave. Matthew had closed the door before he could hear Alfred's whispered words.

"You better be."

BROTHERLY LOVE! *ahem* So, that was angsty. I'm sorry for making Alfred so weepy but I feel like he doesn't half-ass anything, whether it be plans to save the world or emotions.

This site is giving me a lot of error lines on my story for the Canadian spellings of words. TAT

That was a short chapter, eh? I'm sorry about that. There will be a longer one sometime soon. By the way, if anyone is wondering the total amount of chapters, it is around 13-ish. Just wanted you all to know.

Guest: Hullo! Thank you for reading my story thus far. As for the description of Matthew being an assassin at such a young age, it will eventually be explained so please bear with me! Thank you for the comment and sorry for the vague answer!