AN: Oh my gosh! Thank you guys for all the alerts and favorites! You have no idea how happy it makes me ^^ The next chapter should be out next Friday and if I decide to add on another chapter it probably won't be posted until after the 28th because I will be in Canada~
aphrodite931: I pictured Arthur as more of an antisocial kind of person, so he knew the William's family lived next door, he just didn't know them personally (nor well enough to recognize them in the obituaries and news). He did see Matthew's wife working in the garden every day and caring for the plants and flowers, but he was either too busy to go see them or nervous about meeting them to actually go over and say hello. But he did notice when the U-hals arrived and after seeing them he took extra care to glace out his window at the garden to see if the new neighbor knew how to care for it and when he did notice that no one was caring for it, it still took him several months to get himself to the door of the house to ask.
Anon: Thank you!
(sorry if I didn't address your comment here, these I either felt contained questions that helped explain parts of the story or I couldn't respond to them in a pm)
Enjoy ^^
oOoOoOo
Alfred, Arthur learnt, was a very strange and jumpy man. Yes, he was loud and quite friendly, but there were moments when he sunk into himself and Arthur would find him staring blankly at nothing, his eyes far off and his mouth pulled into a frown. Most of the time those moments took up Alfred's whole day and Alfred just couldn't care for Matthew. So instead of caring for the garden, Arthur would care for the baby as Alfred hid in his room and slept. Some days it made Arthur angry that a child's own bloody father couldn't bring himself to care for said child. And yet it was understandable to him because Alfred was a single father and Arthur was certain that it wasn't the easiest job in the world, nor one with the most pleasant history. What history could it be if it left the man broken?
What if the child's mother was dead or had just gotten up and left Alfred and the baby, or what if the baby looked like the mother and it broke Alfred's heart to look at the child because he was still so in love? It would be understandable that Alfred couldn't care for Matthew then because it would break his heart more and more each day. But it didn't matter what the reason was anyways. The days in which Alfred couldn't care for little Matthew were far and few in between. Alfred watched after Matthew as if the sun would collapse in on itself and drag the planet into a fiery hell and Matthew was the only thing still holding Alfred to the planet. There were nights when Arthur looked out his window to Alfred's house and saw the lights on and the shadow of Alfred's pacing form with the child in arm, and there were times when Arthur thought Alfred was going to pass out from exhaustion. Alfred was a good man, but he was just a little damaged.
oOoOoOo
Summer had arrived slowly and Arthur's shifts at the college library he worked at were sparse, but the time he spent in Alfred's lush garden was often. He'd spend hours a day in the garden, weeding and watering, plucking dead flower heads and speaking softly to the live ones. Every so often Alfred would join him, taking it upon himself to carry things that were too heavy for Arthur himself to carry, though Arthur did notice that Alfred had some problems lifting the heavy objects, his left shoulder giving a twitch and his eyes would glaze over in an old pain that caused Alfred to favor his arm for the rest of the week. For this reason he didn't leave Alfred to carry anything heavy too often.
Matthew would join them as well, sitting in a portable play pen where he stood and gurgled out mangled words and coos. Arthur just knew in a matter of months words would be flying from the child's mouth like nobody's business and Alfred would be more exhausted than usual as he chased the speedy child around.
Arthur had learnt the schedule of his neighbors, adapting his own to theirs and was happily invited into their lives, spending nearly all day over at the large house, gardening and watching as Alfred babbled nonsense to Matthew who babbled it back with wide eyes. He often found himself watching the two exchange words after wandering the trails in the garden after his work was done. He found them in the same spot every day after they had disappeared only to find the two of them sitting in the shade by the rose bushes, Matthew seated in Alfred's lap and Alfred sitting below the tall hedges. He'd sit himself behind some of the larger hedges and listen as Alfred talked and told the child silly things like how he had a friend from another planet, or how the house elves had moved the TV remote again so they were playing outside to which Matthew would response with a shrill coo and a pop of a spit bubble and Alfred would laugh and rub his nose into the baby's soft blonde hair.
Alfred really was so sweet and caring. He had a genuinely nice family that had accepted him in without a thought, treating him as if he was tied to them in a way that wasn't just neighborly.
Arthur smiled as he pulled his hands out from the dirt and clapped them off. He tossed them into his gardening bucket and picked it up, glancing around to see if Alfred had decided to sneak up on him instead of the other way around. He began wandering the maze of the garden and poked his head around the bend to see Alfred sitting in his usual spot with baby Matthew bouncing on his lap, gurgling and sputtering nonsense. But something was off with this picture. Alfred was silent, staring at the rose bushes in front of him. He wasn't chattering away with Matthew as usual, nor was he bouncing the child on his lap and showering him with praise. It was like the days in which Alfred couldn't be around Matthew without breaking down or pushing him onto Arthur before hiding himself in his room. But he hadn't been in such a state that morning. He had been his usual bursting with joy self, making Arthur breakfast and blabbering away about the bird he saw and how he was thinking about. He frowned, but seated himself quietly in the grass anyways, waiting in silence in case Alfred did end up needing him.
"I don't deserve this." Alfred mumbled and Arthur's ears perked up at the sound, his thick brows pulling together. "You deserve this. This is my fault. All mine. You should have the big house, and the pretty garden, and the loving child. And I should be back in my old apartment looking for a job." Arthur frowned and he leaned forward. "None of this should have ever happened." He sniffled and Arthur heard a sob. "I should be dead!" Matthew was silent now, staring with his big purplish-blue eyes at Alfred. Then he reached forward, fisting Alfred's shirt and nuzzling the man's chest with a soft coo as if to tell Alfred that everything was alright. Alfred let out another sob and broke loose crying. Arthur felt his heart throb and he stood, walking up behind Alfred and, hesitantly, looping his arms around Alfred, giving him a hug from behind. Alfred tensed. "Wha-? Arthur?" He sniffled as he turned his head so that their cheeks touched.
"Hush you silly man, you." He whispered into Alfred ear as he gave the larger man a squeeze. "You should be alive, and you should be happy. I don't know what makes you think you should be dead, but do you really think Matthew's mother would want that?" Alfred let out a heavy sob and Arthur could feel the fat tears meeting where their cheeks touched.
"Matthew's mother! Matthew's mother would want Matthew! Jean would want Matthew!" He cried as he tried to tug himself from Arthur's grip. His frown deepened as he began to run his fingers through Alfred's hair.
"You're his father Alfred." He whispered, "He deserves you just as much as his mother does, but you have him, not her." Alfred let out a choked cry that finished with a growl.
"No! I'm not his father!" Alfred snapped. Arthur froze. Alfred… wasn't the father. So what, had his girlfriend cheated on him and left him with the baby? "He's my brother's son." Alfred choked one of his hand moved up to cover his face, the other still holding Matthew to his chest. "Matthew Jr. After my brother." Oh. Oh god that changed a lot. He moved himself and took Alfred's face in his hands, careful of Matthew.
"Alfred." He whispered. "Alfred remove your hand from your face and open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me." The blue eyes opened and shot a tear-filled glance at him. "Alfred, I am so sorry. I cannot even tell you that I know how you feel, because I don't. But I can tell you one thing. And that is that, I am so glad to know you. I am so happy to have met you and to have walked through your door. And I'm sure Matthew is very happy to have you as an uncle. So stop your crying." Alfred sniffled and fat tears continued to roll down his cheeks. Matthew looked up to Arthur in distress and began babbling, fat tears wielding up in his big eyes as well. Arthur sighed. "Come now Alfred," He whispered lifting Matthew into his arms and helping Alfred up. "Matthew is probably very tired, and I think you are in need of a cup of tea." Alfred sniffled again and rubbed the back of his hand over his face to remove some of the tears.
"B-but I don't like tea!" He protested though he followed Arthur into the house without an argument.
"Well you will have one tonight, so go sit yourself in the living room." Alfred sniffed and nodded before shuffling off. Arthur sighed and glanced down at Matthew. "Your uncle is quite the handful, you know." The baby cooed and yawned before shoving his fist into his mouth with a gurgle. Arthur chuckled and walked carefully up the steep wooden stairs. He pushed the door to Matthew's room open and placed him into the simple crib. "Good night love, please do give your uncle a break tonight and sleep until morning." He whispered as Matthew's eyes drifted closed with a coo. Arthur smiled. "Thank you."
oOoOoOo
Although Alfred had said he didn't like tea he still drank the glass Arthur gave him. Arthur smiled what he felt was an awkward, yet equally as soft, smile at Alfred and sat himself on the couch across from him as he took a sip of tea. "So," He began carefully, noting the flinch in Alfred's shoulders as he spoke, "I'm not too sure on how to go about this lightly. But, I can see that what happened with your brother and his wife is bothering you." Alfred shifted in his seat uncomfortably; sloshing the tea around in the dainty cup he had been given.
"Can I have a different cup?" He mumbled to which Arthur sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb.
"Lad, I've been coming over to your house for months now, caring for Matthew as well as you yourself when you put yourself into binds much like this one. I care for you. I care about you. You are one of my closest friends, if not my best friend." Alfred's head dropped farther and he let out a bit of a whine, obviously finding himself cornered.
"I know." He mumbled, his thumbs rubbing the porcelain cup tenderly and quickly like worry stones.
"Then why won't you tell me anything?" Arthur asked, leaning forward and placing his empty hand on Alfred's knee. "I know that Matthew isn't your son and your brother is dead, but that I just learnt today. And I do happen to know you hurt your shoulder, I just don't know how." Alfred's eyes flickered up in surprise. "Alfred, I'm not blind. Please, I'm your friend. And if I'm not that to you then at least tell me as someone who will help you in your time of need." Alfred bit his lip.
"You're my friend." He mumbled out, "I think you're my only friend right now. The only one who doesn't bring me any of those pity casseroles and look at me as if I was on my last legs of life." He glanced up. "Arthur I don't want you to do that. Give me that nasty food and look at me like a pet that needs to be put down." Arthur shook his head.
"I would never. Besides, you never let me in the kitchen unless it's to help you clean or so you can try and teach me the proper way to cook." A shadow of a smile drifted across Alfred's face and his eyes seemed to lighten. This was it. "I promise not to do anything you don't want me to." The hesitant look was back, his teeth gnawing on his lips enough to make it swell. Then, very slowly and very unsure, Alfred nodded.
"Okay." He said quietly. "But, if you do, ya know, look at me funny or start giving me food, I swear to you I'll kill that garden." Arthur chuckled and took Alfred's hand. He swallowed and his eyes shifted around the room as the words began to flow. "It… it wasn't too long ago." Alfred stated, nibbling on his lip. "Just a few months before I met you. I was going to a party. I don't really remember what the party was for, but I know I got into an accident. It wasn't too bad but my shoulder…" He drifted off, his hand moving towards the old injury. "I don't know how, but some sort of pole was driven through it. Through my skin and the bone; all the way through my seat as well." He said with a shake of his head. "And I called Matthew. I couldn't think of anything else to do but call him. I didn't think to call for an ambulance or anything; just I thought Matthew could fix it. He could fix anything and everything else anyways. He pulled his care up next to mine…" He paused, "We weren't even on a highway. We were on a side road. So it shouldn't have happened. But it did. He didn't see it coming, but I did. I couldn't warn him in time. The truck, it was big and fast and it just rolled by and when it was gone…" He choked and Arthur moved to sit next to Alfred, his hand rubbing Alfred's back. "They were gone just like that. How could that happen to them? Both of them! Matthew and Jean, both gone because I was too stupid to call the police first. And then they left me their son and their house and everything they owned. How could they do that Arthur?" He sobbed, his face now hidden in his palms, "How could they leave me in his charge? I killed them! I killed them!"
"Oh no, no Alfred! You haven't killed anyone." He whispered his hand rubbing calming circles into Alfred's back, "It wasn't your fault. It has never been your fault. You didn't kill them." Alfred sniffled and broke down in ragged sobs.
"Oh god Arthur," he choked, his hands reaching up and gripping Arthur's shirt as he broke down. He pulled Alfred close, whispering calming words until the sobs were nothing but hiccups and the weight of Alfred's head on his shoulder was a dead weight. The even puffs of air gave away that Alfred had fallen asleep and Arthur smiled softly before readjusting Alfred on the couch so that he way lying down. He pulled a pillow over and tucked it beneath Alfred's head and tugged a blanket over his sleeping body before hesitantly and ever so carefully planting a soft kiss to Alfred's forehead.
"Good night Alfred."