I do not own hetalia.

Chapter 5 Mrs Markson and Thomas Jones

They had once again stumbled upon a dead end; the step-dad of hell still hadn't shown himself, Armound Bonnefoy had nothing more to tell them and they had absolutely no other leads other than a description of one of Francis's friends who disappeared with him the night the boy was shot. Apparently that friend had been some kind of albino; weird red eyes with pale white hair. Alfred still couldn't get over the fact that that Francis guy had been shot all those years ago, it was all very sad and Alfred wondered if his brother had ever truly been happy in the united Kingdom. It seemed he had a very crappy life in this place and Alfred wondered if it was really the right thing to go around digging all the suffering up. But at the same time Alfred knew he didn't want to stop looking into his brother's past, he understood what Matthew was reluctant, sure; he wasn't as much of a fool people thought him to be, but he still wanted to know everything. For the simple reason that he would get to know his big brother better. Or, no, that wasn't all right, the real reason he wanted to know was probably because he wanted to find out all who had hurt his brother in the past, hunt them down and make them pay. Just thinking about Arthur's step-dad made the boy's blood boil and his protectiveness reach all-time highs.

There were still so many questions floating through his mind and Alfred wondered if all of them would ever be answered. He wondered if he could ever learn everything his brother had been through in this country.

All of these things were constantly on his mind. But, at that moment -twelve O'clock in the afternoon, sun breaking through the clouds giving the green park a nice glow, him, crouching down in the bushes next to his brother- was a rare moment when his mind had pushed all those other problems to the very back and he was concentrating on a different set of feelings.

Love.

He knew it sounded cheesy, but it was just that, plain and simple.

He also knew that technically the thing he was now doing was considered stalking, though he had tried to convince himself –and mostly his brother- it wasn't stalking but looking out for the person you love…a far distance away.

It had been a few days since they had been manhandled by guards out of the expensive mansion. Since Armound Bonnefoy had been so extremely upset he had started sobbing hysterically, prompting his wife to appear. When she saw them –and her devastated husband- she had immediately screamed for the guards, who had not so gently thrown them out. After that, they had been searching for other clues, but so far no luck. Matthias had gone off that same morning telling he had to 'do something' and Alfred and Matthew had been free for the whole day. They had gone to buy some souvenirs for when they returned and Matthew had whined to go to a nearby museum that was supposed to be a big deal, Alfred didn't really get what had been so awesome about the place, but yeah, it had made his brother happy and that's just what heroes do; making their little brothers happy. After that super-boring-museum-visit, Alfred had dragged his brother to the gym, wanting to check out a super cool martial arts tournament he had seen flyers from all over London.

It had been awesome to say the least, those martial arts people sure could fight, they were so elegant and cool! The big blonde had watched the contests with shining eyes and enthusiastic cries of joy. Matthew, his boring brother, had been reading that god-awful book Alfred couldn't get him away from.

But all of that didn't really matter, nothing really mattered. Because when the sixth contest started –the one where katana's were used- Alfred saw something what made his stomach flip, his palms sweaty, his eyes the size of dinner plates.

He would recognize him anywhere, that blacker-than-black hair, those gorgeous eyes, that elegant frame, those lips that could spell words that broke your heart or softly whisper 'I love you' in your ear. Alfred knew the other boy had always wanted to travel, he had known that the other was an absolute badass with the katana, he had even known that the soft-spoken boy had always wanted to go to some tournament in London. Still, it was a complete surprise to see Kiku there, dressed in a traditional Japanese gown, ready to face his opponent.

It was like Alfred fell in love with the other all over again. Off course, he had never really stopped loving the black-haired beauty; though to most it had seemed that way. It had just been hard to be himself so soon after Arthur's dead, it was even hard now, to be the one he used to be.

In his whole life, there were but a few times he regretted with all his heart; a few times he made a huge mistake. There was the time when he hurt his own brother; though his memories of it were kind off fuzzy because of the alcohol, he could still clearly remember the blood that had dripped from Arthur's chin, he could still clearly remember the horror when he realized he was the one that did that. Another one was at Arthur's funeral, Matthew had been standing next to him and they had both been staring as the case disappeared in the ground. Matthew had grabbed his hand, Matthew had sought support with him and Alfred had let his little brother down; he had shrugged of his brother's hand and ignored him. It had been the start of a huge rift, that moment their relationship had started to crumble, a relationship Alfred was trying so hard to rebuild now. But there was another relationship he had managed to destroy and that was the one he had shared with Kiku, his love, his everything. Alfred had betrayed the other in the absolute worse way possible; he had pushed him away when Kiku had tried to comfort him, not only that, no, he had sought comfort someplace else. He had sought it in alcohol, in food, in sex. In other men and women.

Yeah, he knew; he had been a total ass, that had been established already.

But this knowledge did nothing to temper his feelings for the boy who was so bravely fighting –and winning- there in the ring. Who was striking his opponent elegantly, who was moving with such precision and poise, who was man enough to look his opponent in the eye and face every challenge head on.

No, Alfred still was head over heels with Kiku.

And according to Matthew, this was a problem.

Alfred didn't get why his brother thought this, it certainly wasn't all that strange to wait in the shadows, for two hours, until Kiku emerged. Was it strange to follow your beloved (ex) and look out for him to ensure nothing would happen to him? Was it strange to hide in the bushes, while the love of your life was sitting alone in the park, soaking in the rare sunlight that made his skin shine.

Well, according to Matthew, it certainly was.

"Can we go now?" His adorable little brother whispered.

His little brother was so foolish, so naïve, he did not yet understand the gravity of love. "Mattie, it totally cool! We can't go yet."

"Cool? Alfred your stalking him!" Matthew insisted. "Don't you see-where did you get that camera?"

Alfred looked up, camera poised in his hands, ready to snap a few good pictures of the beauty sitting a few feet away. "I'm just going to take a few pictures." It was really a crime not to eternalize such a pretty sight! A crime!

Matthew put his hands on his head and groaned. "I almost forgot about your foolish escapades in the time we didn't spend together."

Alfred laughed quietly, for a moment reminiscing about all the adventures he had dragged Matthew in. It had been butt loads of fun. He grinned down at Matthew and his younger brother shot a disapproving look back.

" Matthew, Little brother of mine." Alfred spoke. "Will you help me?"

Matthew scoffed. "That depends with what you want help with." A pause. "And were the same age Alfred, quit telling everybody I'm younger."

"Help me," Alfred said. "win Kiku's heart back."

Matthew looked at him, that look Alfred recognized but could never place. It wasn't cold, it wasn't warm, it wasn't anything he knew. But after a moment Matthew nodded and smiled.

"Off course, Al, Off course I'll help you. However foolish it may be."

Brotherly love right there.

"Thanks, little bro."

The following two hours were spend keeping a watchful eye on Kiku – a few times Alfred could've sworn Kiku noticed the surveillance and his heart stopped, luckily his ex was less perceptive than he would've thought- when the sky turned darker and Kiku decided to leave the park, the two brothers decided to retire to the hotel room as well. Where they spend their time thinking of ways for Alfred to win the love of his life back. Theories were tossed around, ranging from kidnapping to a marriage proposal, and at times both brothers were on the ground laughing. Even though their search wasn't going according to plan, even though the likelihood of Alfred winning Kiku's affection back were slim, in that moment Alfred was truly happy again; for a moment the relationship between him and his younger twin seemed like it had been before and Alfred truly realised how much he had missed his little Matthew.

Matthias's day went very differently than the two boys, it hadn't been a bad day really. For once, things seemed to go according to plan; Matthias had returned to that dreadful police station and, deciding that he didn't want a repeat of last time, sneaked past the guards (flashing his badge and looking quite important, rambling about ties with the American police and international problems) after that he looked up Toris who had, with a bright red face, given him the address of the woman who was responsible for checking up on Arthur while in foster care(after that Toris had firmly told him he couldn't give him any more information, this was truly the limit). Deciding to visit the woman immediately, because she lived nearby, Matthias stepped into his rental car and sped off. Her name was Mrs Markson and she lived in a fairly nice neighbourhood; not nearly as luxurious as the Bonnefoy's had been, but a lot more cosy. A neighbourhood with children playing on the sidewalk, adorning ripped clothes and filthy knees but well fed and with bright smiles upon their faces. Where grandma's where being led around and cared for by their neighbours, where a mother with four grocery bags in her hand and a drooling child on her hand was helped by a charming stranger (him). It was the kind of neighbourhood Matthias had come from and he immediately liked it. Purposely he walked to the address Toris had hastily scribbled on the white piece of paper, when he arrived at the door he pressed the bell, not a minute later the door was opened.

Mrs Markson opened and she smiled questionably at him.

"Hello, how may I help you?"

Matthias couldn't help but smile back. Mrs Markson was a fifty-something, plump, motherly woman with a smile designed to ease any child's fears and worries, she seemed kind, sweet, a complete and utter mother hen. She seemed that way, but five minutes into their meeting, she proved to be that way too. Matthias hastily explained why he was there, faltering for a moment because he had to tell the woman her former charge was dead. Fortunately, she was already aware of this fact; the state had informed her with the same efficiently it had lacked to inform Mrs White. She seemed genuinely happy to let him in and help him out, and Matthias was placed on a comfortable sofa, a cup of tea and a home baked oatmeal cookie in each hand. When he reassured her he didn't need something else, he started a conversation.

"So, you was responsible for Arthur Kirkland while in foster care?"

Mrs Markson set down her cup and straightened up. "Yes dear, from the moment the boy was placed in foster care I was in charge of him. A sweet boy, that Arthur, a little rough around the edges, but he seemed to possess a good heart."

"Did you find a good foster home?"

"Oh, honey, yes I make sure all my dearies find a good responsible family to life with; the horrors you sometimes hear! Unbelievable, I would be the first to admit the system is not without its faults. I've always prided myself in making sure those children are in a good home. Though Arthur was a challenge…"

Matthias frowned. "How so?"

"Well, I don't know you know this, but he came into foster care following an arrest, quite serious accusations were made against him, although they were eventually proved false, off course."

Matthias remembered the Bonnefoys, Armound had talked about seeing Arthur cuffed to a chair, outside the room where Francis lay. And the fact that Armound had thought seeing –what he guessed- Arthur standing behind a tree with an albino kid, when the irresponsible father saw his son last. "The beating of that policemen? I heard about it; they were close by when that cop was assaulted. Francis Bonnefoy was shot."

Mrs Markson nodded sadly. "Yes, such a sad story. The police had always been wary about the people coming from that awful neighbourhood and I heard Arthur and his little band of friends –though he never given me any names of those friends- often had words with that particular officer who walked that round. This wasn't a secret… so when the back-up arrived and saw the fallen officer, they immediately assumed… Well, I suppose they were angry, I suppose they had the right to be angry…but to immediately shoot such a young boy, well, frankly it chills me to the very bone. Luckily, Arthur didn't share the same fate as that boy Francis but was arrested and charged. Not long after the beaten policemen testified that neither Arthur nor Francis had been the ones that had hurt him. A horrible, horrible mistake was made."

Matthias frowned. "A boy was dead, were the back-up policemen punished? Charged?"

Mrs Markson signed. "You have to understand, Mr Kohler, however awful it sounds… It wasn't very hard for the police to cover this thing up. Some people even thought it was good that someone from such a neighbourhood was shot. Almost all the people thought it was their own fault, that they must've done something wrong regardless of the circumstances; such bad neighbourhoods, they don't get sympathy, I see it so very often. I know it sounds awful, but that's just the way it is. I would guess it isn't all that different in the slums in the USA."

Matthias bowed his head. She had a good point.

"After that, Francis Bonnefoy was buried and Arthur was placed under my care, I never got out of him how he had lived before he was placed in foster care. There wasn't much funding to really find out who Arthur was; he never gave his last name to either me or the police. I suppose he didn't want to be placed back under the care of his biological family. Much later when Mister Jones showed up we were able to fill in some blanks. I always had the suspicion the Bonnefoys knew who Arthur was, but they held their mouths firmly shut. Arthur was a closed off boy, I could never really get through to him, neither could the families he was placed in."

Matthias wringed his hands. "How many?"

"Arthur was in foster care for nearly a year; in that time he lived with four different families, good families, but after a few months he always wanted to leave. I suppose he didn't want to lose any of his independence. I suppose he thought he didn't need a family anymore."

Matthias nodded, independent Arthur, that sounded about right. "Until Jones?"

Mrs Markson nodded, a brilliant smile blossoming on her lips. "Yes, until Mr Jones came to us, looking for his lost son." She chuckled. "Such an energetic man! He came to us, armed with the knowledge of his son's last name, the whereabouts of his mother, opportunities to turn Arthur's life around. He demanded to see his son, but was utterly nervous when it was time for Mr Jones to meet Arthur."

Matthias smiled, imagining an older version of Alfred, the one he had seen in pictures littered around Arthur's and the boy's house. "He was, wasn't he? A good man…"

Mrs Markson nodded. "Yes, I suppose he was." A fond smile made it on her face. "But don't you go thinking Mr Jones was the only good person in Arthur's life! The last two foster families reported both an albino kid with red eyes and a big Russian kid occasionally checking up on the boy, they were probably his old friends. Wanted to know if he was alright."

Matthias shot up, this was the second time he heard about the albino looking boy; Bonnefoy had mentioned him too. "Are you sure they were checking up on him… they weren't…threatening?"

Mrs Markson looked taken aback. "Goodness, that didn't even cross my mind. I… I don't know about the other, but I, well, I was curious about Arthur so I once… I'm not proud of this, but I once ease dropped on a conversation between Arthur and the albino looking boy –Gilbert Arthur called him- and it was everything but threatening."

Matthias raised him brow. "Do go on."

She really shouldn't be doing this, but when the Jefferson's told her Arthur was outside talking to a friend, Mrs Markson couldn't help but be curious. It was for the boy's benefit too, she reasoned, if she could uncover more of the boys past, maybe they could fix a better, permanent, family for him; this was already the boys third family and he was already requesting a transfer! So that was how she found herself with her knees in the bushes. Spying on the boy who was standing by the iron fence, his blonde hair was blowing in the wind and he was fondly smiling at a white-haired kid with surprisingly reddish eyes. She shuffled a little closer, praying she wouldn't be seen, so she could hear what the two were saying. Arthur was talking.

"…and then I told them I wanted to leave."

The white-haired boy chuckled. "I'm guessing that went over well! Fucking hell Arthur, sometimes you can be awesome like me!" The boy turned serious again. "Are you sure that was the only reason you want to leave? You now you can tell me anything!"

Arthur smiled warmly at The other boy. "It isn't so bad, Gilbert, truly. I know you had a lot of rough experiences in foster care, but Mrs Markson is quite sweet; she always checks up on me."

Mrs Markson's heart skipped a beat, the boy spoke so fondly of her! She smiled to herself, suddenly feeling quite guilty about what she was doing. She was practically betraying her ward's trust. She shuffled a little deeper in the bushes, praying he wouldn't find her.

The boy, gilbert, snorted. "Sweet my ass, that's how they get you, you know? Are you sure you can't just hop over this fence and come with me?"

Arthur sighed, as if they had this conversation before. "You know I can't Gilbert. Ivan, Berwald even Tino agreed! I'm on their radar now; both foster care and the police want to keep an eye on me so that I can be 'helped', like I need their bloody charity! Children services, no Mrs Markson, won't let me simply disappear. They would find me and pull me back; I'm not an anonymous street kid anymore. Though I do miss you all terribly, I'm glad you found me."

Gilbert chuckled. "Yeah, being anonymous is totally awesome!" he moved to stand a little straighter, both boys looking each other in the eyes. "I'm glad I found you too! How long has it been? Seven months? You should've seen the gang when it became apparent you had disappeared! Who would've thought you had been placed in a foster family half across the country! I was so relieved when we found you here! Especially after all that happened…"

Mrs Markson knew that this was the first family who reported Arthur's little visitors; which made sense, this was also the first time Arthur was once again placed in London. If his friends had been living on the street, they would've had no idea where Arthur had disappeared to…

Arthur looked sad. "Yes, I heard. I'm so sorry about Emil Gilbert. So very, very sorry."

Hair was obscuring the other boys face and Mrs Markson couldn't see his expression. "Yes…yes I'm sorry too. You know…" Gilbert hesitated, as if he didn't know how to continue. "We're falling apart, our little gang… first Francis, then you, Elizabeth, Emil… now Ivan has been gone for several days. Furthermore, they are going to wreck the building… I really don't know what to do…"

"Can't you ask Ludwig…?"

Gilbert snorted. "I'm not that desperate! Besides, I always find a way to get by!" the white-haired boy gave Arthur a blinding laugh. "you should know that by now, Arthur!"

Arthur smiled. "That's probably true but…" He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, looking around him, he quickly handed it to Gilbert. "Here, I nicked this while the Jefferson's weren't looking."

Gilbert looked at what Arthur had given him and for a moment he seemed to be breathless. At that same moment Mrs Markson realised that it was money. Her ward had stolen from his host family! She had to supress the urge to jump out of the bushes and grab the little thief by the ear; but she decided against it. She really didn't want the boy to know she was ease dropping, no matter what the other had done.

"this…this is a lot…" Gilbert stammered. "…thanks so much, this, this'll really help." A huge grin broke through. "You sure are amazing Art, still got it, don't you?"

Arthur scoffed. "Did you really think I would ever lose it? Of course I'll help you guys out, I'll still be of use to you lot. Besides, this is probably what Ivan meant when he said that me staying in foster care would benefit us all. Helping out. Financially."

Gilbert grinned. "Probably, the greedy bastard. Look Art, I've got to go." Gilbert hand reached out and the boy ruffled the others hair, Arthur scowled and took a step back. "You tell me if something's wrong, all right? The moment something's amiss, we'll break you out of this place!"

"It's not a prison, Gilbert."

"It might as well be." Gilbert said. "Just like a prison, you're stuck."

"I won't drop the soap."

Gilbert turned around, laughing and waving.

"Make sure that you don't!"

Arthur turned around and walked back into the house, Mrs Markson was never discovered.

Matthias wasn't sure how to respond to that story, though it was nice that Arthur still seemed to have friends after Francis had gone, the references to street life scared him. He was about to say something whensuddenly Mrs Markson shot up and with a quiet 'oh!' she started rummaging through the drawers of her cabinet. After a moment she pulled out a videotape, videotape not DVD, and handed it to Matthias. "I almost forgot I had that!" She said. "Meetings between parents and foster children are taped and documented. This was released to Arthur, but he told me he didn't want it, he told me I could keep it. I think he wanted to leave a piece of himself in the United Kingdom."

Matthias was startled. Especially about the sudden change of topic. "So this is…"

"Yes, the documented meeting between Mr Jones and Arthur. I have a feeling Arthur would've wanted you lot to have it."

The timing couldn't have been any more perfect.

Not.

They had just been about to find the perfect solution to the Kiku dilemma when Matthias stormed into the room and destroyed their train of thought. Destroying their idea which most likely would've been awesome. Yes, Alfred was not a happy camper, until he could no longer ignore Matthias happy yells and franticly waving around of a videotape.

Dude seriously videotape? They weren't in the middle ages anymore!

But then Matthias explained, and not a moment later all were happily yelling and jumping up and down. Well, Matthias and Alfred were yelling and jumping up and down; Matthew was just smiling contently, sitting on the bed and a happy glint in his eyes.

Then the tape was played and all was silent.

A room came in view, a table in the middle, a young scowling boy sitting opposite of a blonde smiling man.

They hadn't seen their father in a little while and both of them swallowed away a lump. Their father had been a good one, they remembered. A father who always played with them, was never unrightfully angry and always, always showed he loved them. Alfred and Matthew both could still remember the pain when they were told that both their parents had died. They had been young and it had almost seemed impossible to be true, but when they saw their parents being buried, they had no other choice but to believe it. Yes, it was hard and strange to see their father on that videotape. Just as it was strange to see a young Arthur sitting opposite of him. It was a different Arthur then they had ever known; no primp and proper clothing, no carefully styled hair, no gentlemanly behaviour. No, this Arthur was clothed in punk-like tight clothing, seemed to have lined his eyes with black kohl and although he was sitting straight up in the chair, he still practically oozed disobedience.

"So, who are you?" the strange version of Arthur spoke. "Why are we even in this room? Other therapists? You can bugger off then; I bloody don't need to talk about feelings."

Their father was still staring at Arthur with eyes the size of plates, like he couldn't believe the sight before him. Not in a bad way, no, his eyes were shining with wonder, like he had imagined this meeting a thousand times, but reality was always different. Arthur ached an eyebrow at the other man and impatiently drummed his fingers on the table.

The man finally spoke, his voice was quiet, emotions battling each other. "I'm no therapist… My name is Thomas Jones."

The blonde boy didn't seem fazed in the least. "Alright , Mr Jones. Why the bloody fuck are you bothering me? I imagine you have better things to do?"

The man seemed to take a deep breath, bracing himself for the conversation he was about to have. "I…I don't really know where to start…"

Arthur leaned back, his eyes following Mr Jones every movement. He was curious now, both Matthew and Alfred recognized the expression. "How about starting at the beginning?"

The blonde man let out one barking laugh at that statement. Before turning serious again. "At the beginning, heh? You might be right… It all started years ago when I was still a teenager."

"A teenager? Dear god how long is this going to take?" Arthur looked irritated and bored at the same time, he clearly didn't expect much. "Look mister I really don't need to hear your life story."

Mr jones looked at the other, an unreadable expression on his face, not anger, no, more a mixture between guilt and pity. "Just hear me out, please." Arthur scoffed and looked the other way. "I was part of a student exchange program and was placed here in London. While here… I met a girl…" Their father took another breath. "That girl's name was Elizabeth White."

This got Arthur's attention, his head, which he had been resting in his arms, shot up and his green eyes were firmly placed upon their father.

"She was around my age, a little younger. I was so in love, her smile, her hair, her beautiful eyes. We used to make fun of each other, you know? Jokes about Brits and Americans. I was crushed when I had to return to the states; I thought she was too, I know she was too. We told each other we would write, every week. We would never lose touch we agreed." Mr Jones sighed. "Not even two weeks after I had returned to the states her letters stopped, I figured she lost interest."

Their dad and their brother looked each other in the eyes, blue and green clashing. What had their father thought when looking in to those eyes, had he seen Elizabeth White? Or had he just seen his son, plain and simple, the son he abandoned?

"That was about sixteen years ago."

Silence as the two kept their eyes locked. Arthur's surprise had faded from his face and not an emotion could be read from his expression. Their father, on the other hand, looked nervous, almost pleading. It was Arthur who broke the silence.

"Why don't you just come out and say it?" His face was as cold as his expression and Alfred could barely contain a flinch at the tone.

"You are my son, Arthur and I am your father." Arthur didn't react and Mr Jones swallowed, suddenly speaking very fast. "And I'm so very sorry I haven't been there for you, I should've been there, you are my son! You have to believe me, I didn't know I had another son, Elizabeth didn't tell me. I found out a little while ago and have been trying to find you. Please Arthur, you have to-"

"…you are my father?" His voice was quiet yet calm, the question not whispered in disbelieve or wonder. No, his tone light, as if he was asking about the weather.

"Yes."

Arthur scoffed. "You? A bloody yank?" his voice had turned mean, angry almost. "Dear god, Francis would've had a field day with this one. Kill me now, I'm part American."

Mr Jones frowned. "Arthur do you understand what I'm saying-"

"If I understand? Of course I do." Laughter sounded through in his voice, mocking. "what did you expect? Tears?" Their blonde brother let out a barking laugh. "Did you expect me to rush into your arms? Did you expect me to be angry at you for leaving my mother; you weren't the first or the last to leave that woman. Did you expect me to feel complete now? I hate to tell you this, Mr Jones, but you are too late."

Laughter died into Arthur's throat and what's left was a cold calculating look. "Of all the times you could've come, of all the times in my life I needed someone like you, you had to choose the one time I don't need you anymore." Arthur leaned back into his chair. "And now, I simply don't care." But that wasn't true; both Alfred and Matthew saw it in the way Arthur was clenching his fists.

Their father had been silent while Arthur had been talking and both Matthew and Alfred were surprised to see tears in the man's eyes. They had never seen that before.

"Arthur, please, don't hate me…" his voice was broken and sad. It even seemed to surprise Arthur, like he hadn't thought his rejection of the man would've made any difference to the other.

"I don't hate you, Mr Jones, how can I? I don't even know you." Arthur moved to stand up. "Why don't you just go? Forget you ever had another son; everything could be as it was for you. You've done your duty, you visited me. You're done."

Before Arthur could properly stand up, their father grabbed the teens arm, stopping him. "No!" Thomas Jones looked panicked. "You're my son! I don't want to forget about you. I won't pretend it wasn't a shock to discover you existed, I won't deny the fact that my life is more complicate now. But you are my son, mine." Edward Jones straightened his spine. "and I am your father. However much you deny that you need me, I can give you a place outside of foster care, I can give you a family, a life."

That was obviously the wrong thing to say because Arthur pulled his arm violently free and for the first time he seemed to convey a real, raw emotion; anger. "You can give me a life? I have a perfectly good one, with good people in it! How dare you tell me that the life I'm leading is inferior. At least I'm not a spoiled little boy who is to naïve to understand how the world works." The anger seemed to vanish after his rant, before a mocking grin found its way onto their older brother's face. "Besides, I see a wedding ring on your finger, what would the wife think of the bastard child, which her husband conceived with the some English girl?"

Mr Jones faltered a little when reminded of his wife, before growing determent again. "She'll get over it… And I didn't mean to insinuate your life had no worth, it's just… don't you want an proper education, a chance of a brighter future? A family to call your own?"

Arthur looked away. "In case you didn't read my file; I don't do well with families… I've been with a lot of foster families, go ask them."

"I really don't care what those other families had to say about you. You are my son and I want you to be part of my life, I want to be a part of your life. Please Arthur, come to America with me."

Arthur scoffed. "What did I tell you? You are too late-"

"Please Arthur, please. Come life with us; my wife and your two half-brothers."

Arthur, who had been looking away, quickly turned his head toward his father. "I have… I have brothers?"

Mr jones hastily pulled something out his jacket, his wallet, before opening and pulling out a picture. Both Alfred and Matthew couldn't see it from the screen, but they knew which picture it was; their father had always carried it with him. Both of them around five or six, on Christmas eve wearing a Santa hat and huge grins. Arthur grabbed the picture and stared at it, a small smile tugging at his lips ( because nobody couldn't at least crack a little smile while presented with such cuteness).

"The blue eyed boy is Alfred and the other is Matthew." Jones told Arthur, his tone softening a little at the mention of his young sons. "You are their big brother Arthur."

Arthur slowly sat back down on his chair, eyes still glued to the picture. "…a big brother…? I've been one once before you know? Mother had another baby after me, my little brother. She had him with the nicest man I ever met, Mother was married to him...Little Peter died, stillborn. I think it was then that she completely derailed."

Silence.

"Arthur…" Jones spoke up. "I don't know what happened between you and your mother; I only know that you haven't seen her in quite some time…I found your mother… I could take you to her, if you want…anything you want, but please come with me to the states."

"…It's a long, long way to America…" Arthur seemed to be lost in thoughts, thinking about something they would never be able to know, before locking eyes with his father once again. "You're going to regret this, you know?"

"I won't."

"Fine, I'll give the country of horrible grammar, bloody yanks and unintellectual fools a chance."

The videotape had given room for thought. Matthew didn't really know how the others thought about the thing, but for him, it made warmth blossom in his chest, tightening around his heart. Matthew had always loved his father, even though the man sometimes didn't pay much attention to him, and he had always knew his father had been a good man. The video proved that, and Matthew was glad he had seen this little piece of Arthur's and their father's history. He had been touched, just like his brother, by Arthur immediate acceptation of them.

Yes, Matthew felt quite happy about Matthias find. But one person he couldn't get out of his head. That was why, the following day, he crept out of his bed at the crack of dawn. Silently slipped on his shoes and jacket as to not disturb the other sleeping occupants of the room. This ultimately proved to be all futile since he tripped on one of Alfred's strategically placed shoes and landed firmly on his face. Which woke the two other up.

They in turn decided that whatever Matthew was planning they should come with. When he didn't want to tell them what he was planning, they simply followed him. Which didn't matter all that much, Matthew hadn't been planning something secretive, just something he would've thought not interesting for the other two. That was a mistake; when the three of them finally arrived at the graveyard they had both gone quiet, understanding who they were about to visit.

They stood there quite some time, marvelling about the friend they would never meet, who had meant so much to Arthur. The stone was well-kept and several flowers adorned it. A pendant was hanging on the stone, the same pendant, Matthew noticed, as Arthur had always carried around.

Francis Bonnefoy.

You will be dearly missed

Matthew really hoped they had found each other again.

Letters to you.

Arthur,

You are too loud! Your mom and that boyfriend who lives with her and you! You all started shouting two nights ago, it woke me up! I couldn't sleep for the whole night, so I climbed out of my window and listened to the three of you, until everything quieted down and was silent. After that, I waited some more… You never came outside, like you usually do when things start to get loud in your house, neither did you show your ugly face the following days…

I hope you are alright, should I come find you?

Francis.

Dear readers, I'm sorry for the delay in updating, I've recently been very busy with exams and the fact that I've moved away from my parents to live on my own.

I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter.

I want to thank everyone who reviewed, as many writers on this site will know, reviews are very dear.

So if you think it was good or bad. If you want to give me some pointers or if you're just in the mood to say something about this chapter or my story; please review!

Oh yeah, almost forgot; I've put a letters to you bit in the previous chapter because I had forgotten it last time, also; I've discovered some mistakes in the story (minor mistakes, but mistakes nonetheless) so I'll be fixing those. Also, if any of you see something that doesn't add up, feel free to tell me!