I'm so sorryyyy, its been such a long time!

Well, without further delay, here is the new chapter!

Chapter 9 Gilbert and Ludwig

"Sir, you don't have the right authorisation-" the bewildered policeman-obviously a rookie- began before Matthias enraged voice tore the sentence apart.

"I don't fucking care." He growled, "I want answers. I want you to check Harris Morrison's alibi for this date and I want a goddamn explanation for the downright horrible job you people have been doing!"

"Sir, I don't follow, please-"

"And if I don't get those things this fucking minute there's going to be someone seriously hurt!" Matthias had tried to control his temper, he really had. If only because Alfred and Matthew were with him. But they were in the police station that held authority over downhill street and many other districts in the area. The one police station that had been so fucking incompetent and corrupt in Arthur's younger years. He really couldn't be expected to be nice to these people, they were the very thing he despised the most; policemen took an oath, they were there to protect the ones that needed it, not ignore them. He had no patience left, not anymore. Luckily, both Alfred and Matthew didn't seem upset that he was getting so riled up, they both were wearing twin looks of approvement.

"Is there a problem here?" The rookie policeman seemed faint with relief when another man came up to them, alerted by the racket Matthias was making. This man was obviously much higher in rang and had the smug face to prove it. Little bastard, Matthias mused, in his squad that guy wouldn't even be fit to be assigned traffic duty. Matthias whirled around and faced the other, jabbing his finger in the other man's chest. "Yes, there is a problem." He growled. "I want to know what kind of shitjob this station has been doing!"

The man raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me! I said that I demand to know-"

"Sir you are making a scene in the middle of the police station, I would advise you to calm down, or else I would have to ask you to leave."

"We ain't leaving." Alfred spoke up. "We need information!"

Two big man joined the smug looking one. The man smirked in a way that was really, really blood-boiling annoying. "then I'm afraid my associates will be forced to remove you."

The man advanced on them and Matthias grabbed a hold of his last hope.

"I want to speak with Gilbert Beildschmidt!" He yelled, showing all the business card.

His step brother had determent eyes. This was the first thing Gilbert noticed about Eli, the second was his fierce nature and the third was his booming confident laugh.

"Gilbert, this is Eli, your step brother." His step father had said.

It wasn't until years later that Gilbert found out that Eli was a girl and that her mother had named her Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was a girl.

No matter that she was forced into boy's clothing, no matter that her hair was chopped short, no matter what her father wished her to be.

And if Gilbert was honest… Although he would never tell a soul, he thought Elizabeth was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

She was never a boy, no matter what that awful man claimed. Nor was she ever a whore, no matter what society labelled her to be. To him, Elizabeth was always and would always be a true lady.

"Sir?"

Gilbert was shaken out of his thoughts as an underling found his way into his office. His red eyes assessed the guy's rumpled clothes and rather terrified expression. The guy had just been placed under his care and the strain seemed already too much for the poor guy, inwardly Gilbert smirked, he certainly wasn't a very lenient mentor. Not that his own boss was any less strict, there wasn't a week when Gilbert wasn't reprimanded. He smirked, he was just awesome like that.

"What's up rookie?"

"There are some…people here to see you…" The man uncertainly answered, probably wondering if it was smart to allow those 'people' inside the office. Gilbert, on the other hand, wasn't uncertain at all. It seemed that the big blonde had found his little present in his coat and things were finally stepping up. A smile found his face, finally he would be able to make some goddamn difference.

"Let them in."

The rookie nodded weakly and went to collect the chaotic party.

While waiting for the three men to arrive Gilbert smoothed his uniform and straightened in his chair. His hand unconsciously moved over his collar and the pin that rested there. He looked just like a good wholesome police officer like this, if you overlooked the way his red eyes twinkled with mirth and his shocking white hair made him look more like a delinquent than a man of the law.

Not even a minute later his office door was opened again and three people walked in, they seemed rather upset but were also obviously relieved that they had been allowed in his office. Gilbert surveyed them carefully, pleased to see that they were unharmed and seemed to be in good health. After all, you never knew what would happen when Ivan had set his sights on someone. Arthur would surely haunt him forever if something happened to them under his watch, and you really didn't want an angry ghost Arthur on your case.

Gilbert grinned. "Welcome." Then he made a gesture to the chairs in front of his desk. "Please," He elaborated. "Sit down."

All three did, but were also rather red in the face. It seemed that they had a very lively morning, Gilbert could appreciate that. The young blonde with the blue eyes –Alfred he remembered- spoke up. "Who the heck are you anyway?"

Gilbert grinned. "Excellent question, kid, you three are probably wondering what the fuck is going on."

Matthias nodded. "We are, how do you know us? And why did you give me your card? What do you even want?"

Gilbert's grin broadened. "I want to help you guys of course!" He said. "I gave you my card because I knew that it would lead you awesome gentleman to me, and for the first question; my name is Gilbert Bleidschmidt."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "You want to help us? Why?"

"Yeah I should probably elaborate, it is very nice to meet you, little brothers and best friend of Arthur Kirkland! I am Gilbert, former street rat and good friend of our dearest Arthur, who has passed so recently."

He gave them all his trademark wink.

"And I would very well like to help you catch whoever killed the fierce Briton. Please allow me to help you in your quest to uncover the truth."

Alfred and Matthias gaped, Matthew did not react in any way.

"W-w-wait…" Alfred chocked. "Why do you sound so familiar? Why does your name sound so familiar?"

"It's because h-h-he c-came to our house once, Alfred. R-r-remember?" Matthew spoke, an odd look in his face. "He w-wanted Arthur to leave with him, t-t-they had a-a f-fight."

"Yeah," Gilbert scratched the back of his head. "Sorry about that, I was going through some rough stuff. Me and Artie were otherwise on good terms, don't you worry!"

Matthias frowned. "You knew him when he was still living in London?"

"Yep, sure did. We hanged for a few years together with some other people. Eventually it all went to hell with Francis dying and Arthur getting picked up by the police and a whole lot of other shit, but for a while, we were a very close knit group. Street rats, as we liked to call ourselves."

Matthias eyes widened in realisation, how had he not connected the dots? "You are the boy Arthur's social worker saw that day! You are the one that checked up on him while he was in foster care!"

Gilbert blinked. "She knew about that? Well, she was awesome... Yep, I visited Artie now and again, we made small talk, I gave him awesome time with me, he gave me money he nicked from his foster family. Good times."

"He stole from his foster family?" Alfred spoke, a little taken aback.

"Yep, he sure did. Artie always had a gift for stealing money. Great pickpocket that guy."

"Pickpocket?" Alfred again.

Matthias sighed before speaking. "So you knew Arthur? How?"

Gilbert relaxed in his chair, swinging his feet on his desk. He leaned back a little, nostalgia lighting his face. "I met Arthur the same day I met Francis. I was fifteen at the time and I lived with my steph-sister in an building that has now long since been demolished. It was abandoned, so nobody had any claims about us moving in."

Alfred frowned. "You were homeless? That's horrible…"

Gilbert barked a little in laughter. "We were all homeless kid, everyone in our group. Well except for Francis, but he was always the exception on every rule imaginable. Elizabeth and I were the first ones to inhabit that place, we had ran away from her father and my step father, and lived on the streets of London. We met them six months later. They seemed to be in distress and Elizabeth offered them a place to stay, Arthur did not have a place to return to, so he stayed."

"What about Francis?" Alfred questioned.

"Francis had parents and a home. He went to a school every day and was receiving education. Still, he came by every day to visit us. He was a part of our group, even if he could not completely understand our world. He took textbooks and assignments with him, he was a great teacher really." Gilbert's eyes softened. "If he wouldn't have died, I bet that he would have been a great teacher."

Matthias nodded. "So you took care of each other…"

"Yeah, we did."

There were two boys there. Both sitting on their knees in the ruined living room of their little estate. Both Gilbert and Elizabeth looked on in quiet apprehension. Who were they? They didn't seem dangerous, both younger than them and much to engrossed in each other to have come here to look for the girl and the boy. After a shared look and without any noise, both crept forward, curious who the two blondes were. They didn't hide themselves, but that did not matter, both boys did not seem to notice them.

One was noticeably taller than the other, even evident while they were both sitting on their knees. The taller one had nice long hair that seemed well-cared for, while the shorter blonde's hair was shaggy and ill-kept. The taller blonde seemed to possess a sort of grace not often found in teenaged boys and although he seemed to be scared, he had a certain confident air around him. The other was different, Gilbert thought about himself when he looked at the short one. The boy's shoulders were slumped, although the weight of the world took residence there, there was not much confidence in the shaggy-haired one's gaze, but instead a fierceness that told both Gilbert and Elizabeth that this was not somebody you could easily break.

Both boys to have just arrived in the building that was Eli's and Gilbert's home. They were both panting and wet, probably because of the raging storm that was wreaking havoc outside. They were looking at each other, both tired and drained.

The tall one raised his hand and placed it on the shorter ones neck, seeming to trace something there. When Gilbert squinted and concentrated his eyes on that piece of pale neck, he realised with a sickening feeling in his stomach that there were bruises there; strangulation marks.

"Are you all right?" The words were whispered and soft. Gilbert was surprised such a voice could come from such a prideful creature, but he guessed they were witnessing a very intimate moment between the two.

The shorter blonde was trembling, from cold or emotion, Gilbert did not know. But the boy raised his hand too and placed it on the other's. After that he seemed to slump into the other, head resting on the concerned boy's shoulder. The next words were whispered too, this time by the wounded blonde.

"She betrayed me, Francis."

The one named Francis gave a start, obviously shocked by what he had heard.

"W-what?" The blonde stammered. "Arthur, what do you mean?"

There was a moment of silence, before Arthur lifted his head and once again made eye contact. Maybe he found compassion or courage in those eyes, because moments later he continued.

"She made her choice." It was a statement. "And she choose him."

Gilbert did not know what was going on, but he guessed they weren't talking about a crush choosing someone else over the blonde. The whispered words, the silence, this was much, much more serious than that.

"I can't go back." The noises from the storm outside almost blew the whispered words away. "I can't go with you. And I don't know where William is…"

Francis's breath seemed to still, before a chocked sob escaped his mouth and he shot forward to encase his friend in a desperate embrace. He did not seem to know what to say, Gilbert guessed, so he remained silent.

"Where am I going to go?"

So he was like them. No home, no family, nowhere to go. He was like them, a street rat, tossed away from civil society like garbage. He was like them, with the bruised marks on his skin and in his heart. Gilbert clenched his fists, together with his teeth. The word was never fair, was it?

Elizabeth brushed past him, walking toward the two boys huddled on the ground. She stepped up to them and they noticed the brown-haired girl immediately.

"If you have nowhere to go," She started, with the kindness in her voice that never seemed to wither. "Then why don't you stay with us?"

That day marked the end of a period, a period where it was always just the two of them against the word. Arthur and Francis joined them in their fight against the world. They joined them with their fights and arguments, with Francis's nagging and Arthur's outbursts, with insults, jokes, burned food and wandering hands. Sometimes it was hard to imagine what Elizabeth and Gilbert had seen upon first meeting the two other boys; it was hard to visualize the same compassion and the level of caring when Francis was hurling Arthur through the room or when Arthur broke a vase atop of Francis's head. But the caring had been genuine and still very much there, although the two did not show it openly. Sort of like Elizabeth and him, if he was honest with himself.

They lived together, Francis joining them as often as he could since he still had a home to return to, they lived together and it worked. And little by little, others joined them, and they became a family of their own.

A family of misfits, of rejects, but a family nonetheless.

"First came Arthur and Francis. Then Lukas and his little child of a brother, next came Toris, Berwald and Tino. The last to join us was a Russian boy named Ivan, who was pretty screwed in the head, by the way. We never talked about how we came to be homeless, we never talked about our pasts. So I don't know anything about that, but I can tell you how your brother lived. He was a good guy really, but we were all in a shitty situation and we needed to survive."

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked.

"We weren't angels, we weren't always fair, but we tried to not lower ourselves to much to the label society had put on us. We stole, yes and we participated in illegal practices. Which I will keep vague, because, yeah, 'm now an officer. But we did it all to survive."

"Nobody helped you guys?" Alfred's look was heart breaking. "You were all alone?"

Gilbert smiled. "No, there was one man. His name was Roma, he owned a community centre near our building. We were always welcome to come there and forget about our troubles. It was a really nice place, and we often went there, especially in the winter, when it became unbearably cold in our building."

"Wait, a community centre?" Alfred questioned. "Didn't they know you were in trouble?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, Roma knew our situation, but he also knew that we wouldn't accept anyone messing in our life. We all dreaded getting picked up and placed in a foster family, some of us had found out first-hand what that could entail." A somewhat dark look replaced Gilbert's cheerful one. "We were fine on our own. Roma understood that we would leave if he tried something like that, he knew that accepting us without question was the most he could do for us. So he did."

Gilbert grinned. "But I'm sure you three didn't come all the way here to hear me ramble on about some old geezer from a long time ago. A little birdie told me you boys were trying to find out who is responsible for killing our mutual friend, and I would very well like to help you."

Alfred smiled. "Dude, that's awesome! You can tell us all about Artie too!" he excitedly turned to Matthias. "What do you think Matthias?"

The man frowned. "Well… It would be a great help…" He nervously cleared his throat. "I'm sorry Gilbert, but the problem is… We think someone close to him did this, and well…"

Alfred cringed, eyes shooting to Gilbert. He had obviously not thought about that possibility. Matthew's stare became intense, like he was seeing something about Gilbert that the other two weren't seeing. Gilbert himself didn't seem that taken aback by Matthias's words.

"Don't worry, big blonde," Gilbert winked, sliding a note of paper towards Matthias. "If you don't trust me yet, go to this place, the people there'll give you my alibi." Matthias picked up the note, an address adorned it. "Where is this?"

"It's my brother's place, the day Arthur died, we were celebrating his engagement to his cute Italian boyfriend. I was there, they will be able to confirm everything."

Gilbert fixed him with a stare. "When I have earned your trust… Believe me, I can help you find the son of a bitch who killed him. The past is a dark place, and I have my share of suspects. When you'll be ready to accept my help, come by this place again. Or better yet, I'll go to my brother's house."

Matthias nodded and stood up. "Come on boys, let's go." He turned, and with a little nod towards Gilbert, disappeared through the door, closely followed by a grinning Alfred. Matthew took a little longer, and when he neared the door, he hesitated, before turning towards Gilbert once again. Violet eyes were twinkling with an unreadable emotion. His hand resting on the doorknob, Matthew held his gaze, and Gilbert could do nothing else but stare back. Until now, Gilbert had been able to ignore the boy, but now…

"Why are you doing this?" The stutter from before seemed to be gone, steel had replaced it.

Gilbert wasn't smiling anymore. "You know why." He answered, trying to sound gentle. "I'm just trying to find the person who killed your brother."

Matthew's answer was swift. "He wouldn't have wanted your help." His hand was clenching around the doorknob, and Gilbert's own were in fists.

"I know." He told Arthur's perceptive little brother. "But it's the least I could do."

Matthew opened the door and left, but not before sending one last look towards Gilbert. With a shock the albino recognized the look.

Hate.

That boy hated him.

Alfred looked dully out of the car window while Matthias was waving through the traffic, they had decided to check the cool guy's alibi, and at first Alfred had been really, really excited. Since they were finally getting, really getting, somewhere. Plus, the guy had offered his services, and if he had lived with Arthur for a while like he claimed, he must have lots of stories about his brother. So yeah, he had been excited at first, but London traffic really was the third circle of hell, and they really should've gone with the tube, because snails were passing themat the speed they were going. Sighing, his chin on his hand, Alfred watched the sights go by. After a few seconds, that got boring too, so he decided he needed someone to distract him.

"…Mattie…" he whined. Flopping himself all over his twin, making himself pretty damn comfortable.

Mattie gave him an annoyed stare, clearly knowing that Alfred was in one of his moods. "What is it Alfred?"

"I'm boooored." Alfred gave Matthew to most adorable look ever, but his twin seemed unaffected, which sucked major balls.

"So?"

"Entertain me!"

"No, find something else to do." Matthew voice was definitely annoyed now, and it seemed a little strained too.

"But Mattheeeeeeew…"

"God, Alfred," Matthew frowned. "Don't be such an insufferable baby, grow up will you?"

Alfred blinked, taken aback by Matthew's vicious answer. The other boy hadn't made such comments since they had left for Londen. The last time…

"Matthew you are such a killjoy and a loner, you fucking betrayed me!"

"Do you know what you are Alfred?" Soft voice, sneering undertone. "You are the most dim-witted, the most stupid and dumb person I have ever met."

It had been a big fight, just before Alfred had found Arthur's letter and they had decided to leave. Alfred had been mean, Matthew had been mean, and awful words had been said. In the same tone Matthew was using now, but… Alfred wasn't doing anything really wrong, was he?

Alfred frowned, looking up at his brother's face where it rested on Matthew's lap.

"You okay, Mattie?"

A small smile, a soft sigh and the pleasant and non-hostile voice was back on his brothers lips. "Yes, Alfred, just a little tired. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

In the front seat, Matthias was cursing at the traffic, and all was well. They arrived twenty minutes later, arrived at a modest house with a little garden and a white fence. A neighbourhood that reminded Alfred of his own, with playing children en laughing mothers. Matthias turned in his chair and regarded them fondly, his mood had somewhat shifted it seemed, but Alfred knew that below the surface Matthias was still battshit angry.

"It seems we've arrived, boys." He pointed to a nice house at the end of the street, it was a rather small house, especially considering it was surrounded by larger houses, but the whole building just seemed to scream happiness and peace. It seemed… homey, Alfred decidedly. A little like their house in the United States had always been. Alfred liked it, after a quick little glance towards his brother, Alfred found that Matthew seemed to like it too. Matthew caught his gaze and gave him a smile, his mood from before seemed to have vanished.

Ludwig liked to think he was a patient man, he liked to think he was reasonable too and didn't succumb to burst of anger frequently or hurriedly. But that belief was often questioned by the fact that the two most important people in his life caused him ridiculous amounts of stress, sometimes it was almost as if they were frustrating him on purpose. Well, of course he knew that his husband didn't really annoy and/or worry him on purpose and of course he also knew that his brother very consciously was angering and annoying him for the bastard's own amusement. Ludwig liked a stable environment, Ludwig liked peace, Ludwig appreciated calm and quiet and planned things.

Ludwig did not appreciate coming home from work to find his husband in tears and three complete strangers in his house. No sir, he did not appreciate that, even less so when he found out those three strangers had been send by his troublemaking brother. Now, Ludwig loved his brother a whole lot, but sometimes he would really like to choke his sibling to death. Especially when said sibling had invited the past back into their lives, especially when that past was questioning them and demanding all sorts of answers while they were still under his roof.

His past hadn't been a bad one, though, his adopted parents had been angels, he had received an good education and found the love of his life very early on. But his own past wasn't what frightened him really, his brother's past did. Gilbert had been far less lucky in life, their lives had taken two very different roads after they had been separated in the orphanage, both going home to another family, not to see each other again for a long time.

But he was getting of the subject again, what mattered was this; he came home from a good day of work, stepped into the living room and found three strangers on the couch, and a sobbing Feliciano on the armchair. Granted, the three man did look a little sheepish, but Ludwig was far too confused and angry to notice that, especially when he found himself with a handful of wailing Italian a moment later.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

A teenager with blonde hair, glasses, blue eyes and a slightly guilty look on his face started talking. "Ehm, I don't know… One moment he is happily talking to us and the next…" he gestured weakly towards the man who was now wailing a little louder, and gripping his jacket which had become now damp with water and something green Ludwig didn't want to think about.

Ludwig disentangled the sobbing mess of a person from himself. "Feli…?"

Eyes filled with water looked back at him, before they closed, and his husband mouth opened.

"It…is…s-so…SAD!" Feli wailed, before turning and embracing the two teens in a crushing hug. "O-orphans!" He made a grab for the big burly guy next to them but the guy managed to dodge. "L-lost love! Why Ludwig?" Feli turned to him again. "Why is it all so sad?"

Ludwig sighed and looked towards the blonde man with the spikey hair.

The man shrugged his shoulders and send him an apogelic grin.

"Gilbert sent us."

Yes, sometimes Ludwig really wanted to strangle his brother.

A long, long hour passed before everything was calm(er) and everyone was sitting at their dinner table, Ludwig visibly annoyed and Feliciano sniffing now and again.

"So, let's get this straight, you're Arthur Kirkland's brothers?" The two boys (Alfred and Matthew although he had trouble remembering who was which) nodded simultaneously, they seemed to be a little intimidated… Hah good. "And you are…?"

Matthias (as he had already introduced himself) grinned. "Arthur's best friend, at your service." He finished his sentence with a determent nod and a questionable wink.

Ludwig nodded back, while his hand found Feli's knee under the table. He did not want the other to break down again. "So you want to know about Arthur then? And Gilbert's whereabouts on the night of the murder?" Ludwig frowned. "You do know that I am his brother right? What is to say I am not lying?"

Matthias frowned. "Well, we don't act-"

"Gilbert was celebrating with us! Our engagement party, me and Ludwig's!" Feli spoke up. "It was such a fun party, wasn't it Luddy? Everyone was really happy and we danced the whole night long." Feli smiled, but tears were in the corners of his eyes. "The following day we heard the news, we were so sad… Gilbert loved Arthur like a brother! Tell him Luddy, Gilbert would've never hurt his friend."

Ludwig sighed. "Yes my brother was with us that day, the whole day." He stood up and walked towards the cabinet, where he opened the second to top drawer and pulled two folders out. "I figured I should hold on to this when I heard of Arthur's passing, my brother had been in America for a while before Arthur's murder, but he came back for us that day. This is his plane ticket." He lay it before the three men. "And a picture of the party." The picture was lain before the men too, on it a grinning Gilbert with confetti in his hair, holding his bigger brother in a headlock and holding Feliciano's hand as if he was a precious doll.

Matthis nodded, eyes glued to the picture. Alfred (Ludwig assumed) was looking at the picture too, a look of relieve on his face, the other boy, Matthew, his gaze was intensely locked on the plane ticket.

Matthias looked up at him again. "You saved these documents?"

Ludwig nodded. "Yes, we… we thought it was best… evidence that Gilbert had been here."

"Yet you have it even now…" Matthias frowned. "What made you so worried that you would need it again, what made you so spooked? They classified Arthur's dead as a burglary gone wrong, nothing indicated that they had to search beyond the ocean for Gilbert."

Ludwig froze in his seat, what? Burglary gone wrong? But that doesn't sound right… Feli shifted in his seat.

"But we got questioned." Feli told them. "We got a call and they questioned us about Gilberts whereabouts that day."

Feliciano was dozing and leaning against his fiancé. They were on the couch and the movie seemed like nice music in the background. His eyelids were so heavy and he could almost feel the clutches of sleep gripping him and carrying him away to a sweet dream. He snuggled closer, so warm…

He awoke from the phone, it's ringing cutting through his dreamy haze like a sharp knife, he bolted upright feeling a panic he could not quite explain… except that he could, not even a week ago the ringing of the phone had meant a devastating loss. Now Feliciano carried a green ribbon with him to the graveyard every time he went to visit. He could feel Ludwig rouse from his sleep too, and Feliciano quietly disentangled himself from his love. He stood from the couch and he could feel Ludwig starting to do the same.

"Stay." Feliciano smiled. "I'll get it."

"Just let it ring." The man behind him grumbled, Feliciano moved anyway.

He grabbed the phone and moved it towards his ear.

"Feliciano speaking."

There was rustling on the other side of the line, and heavy breathing, the kind of breathing people have when they run a long time and are exhausted.

"Hello?" Feliciano tried again. "Who is this?"

"This…" The voice hesitated and behind Feliciano Ludwig stood up. "This is the police department, I have a few questions for one Gilbert Beildsmidt."

"Police department? Uhm… Gilbert isn't here right now…"

"The person asked me about Gilbert whereabouts just like you did, I answered him… then he hung up."

"Did he ask anything else?" Matthias questioned the man.

"No… no he didn't… Well, he did sound so…"

"So he was with you the whole day?" the voice sounded wrong and tight and for a moment Feliciano thought he heard something in the voice he identified as grief.

"Well… he sounded really sad…"

Matthias frowned and the boy named Alfred looked his way. "What is it Matthias?"

"Well…" Matthias began. "Gilbert Beildsmidt was never part of the investigation, up until now I did not know he had been in America before Arthur's murder… nobody in the department told me this, nobody talked about this, it wasn't in any file. We looked at every possibility in America itself, but we looked at none here. We did not search out people in England, we did not question them, we did not know them. There is a reason why I started my own investigation by coming here, it was because nobody in America bothered to look in this place, even less question people."

Ludwig frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Well… It seems like someone else is on the hunt too."

Matthew looked up. "W-what?"

"Someone else but us is looking for Arthur's killer and has decided to take matters into their own hands."

Gilbert arrived at his brother's home late in the evening. He had chosen the time he went back nicely, he could wait until the following day for Ludwig to chew him out. When he returned, Matthias was still up. Gilbert nodded to him and got a nod back, which probably meant the man and the boys didn't suspect him anymore. Gilbert grabbed some beers and made himself comfortable next to the other man. He handed him a beer.

"So you trust me now?"

"Sure." Matthias nodded. "I trust you as far as I can throw you."

Gilbert smirked. "And why is that?"

"I don't know… something about you just don't quite add up… But I trust you want to find Arthur's killer, and I trust you were his friend."

"Do you trust me to be innocent in his murder."

"… After the way Feliciano defended you, I trust that you cared about him, I trust you know a lot more about him than I do, I trust that you would've never have hurt him."

Gilbert felt his eyes sparkle, and his beers tasted better than it had tasted in a while. He hefted his glass. "To a productive partnership."

Matthias smirked and clanked their glasses together. "To getting the asshole who took our friend away from us."

Gilbert nodded and his smirk fell from his face, he looked towards the ceiling, where the people he cared the most about were sleeping peacefully.

"Yeah," He nodded. "I'll drink to that…"

The boys had gone to bed, so had his brother and brother-in-law. That left Matthias and Gilbert alone in the empty living room, both content with sipping their beer. There was a peaceful silence between them, and Gilbert confessed to himself that he rather liked the big blonde, and that he would have no problem working with him from here on out. He could feel the feeling was mutual, that Alfred and Matthias trusted him too, if he was happy or sad with this fact he did not know. Because at the end of the day, he did report back to Ivan.

Ivan would be relieved and Gilbert would finally have free reign. Gilbert knew Ivan suspected those people, but he knew that they couldn't have done it. Still it wouldn't hurt to let Ivan be on the wrong trail for a while, that way he wouldn't bother Gilbert in his own investigation of Arthur's murder. Though Gilbert wasn't stupid, Ivan was always well informed, chances were that Ivan was simply testing him, in what he did not know. Chances were that Ivan had his own agenda to play, nobody ever knew what the Russian was thinking, not even Toris knew all the secrets that surrounded the Russian. Gilbert knew very well, whenever Ivan was concerned it meant danger, and he was pretty sure Arthur wouldn't have approved him getting his brothers in this kind of situation. Though, Matthias seemed capable of protecting them, Gilbert mused, just like Alfred and Matthew seemed pretty capable of protecting themselves. Though they had lost a lot already, emotionally, they all seemed damaged.

"Just so you know, if you get those boys in any danger, I'll rip you apart."

Gilbert glanced at Matthias.

Hah.

Unrequited love, a terrible, terrible thing.

"You know," Gilbert started, questioning if he was in the right to tell the other this. "The last time I was in England, Arthur talked about you…"

Matthias perked up, eyes shining in curiosity. "He did? What… what did you two talk about?"

"We talked about you trying to kiss him, we talked about the fight right after."

Sadness blossomed in Matthias's eyes and his shoulders slumped down again. "Oh."

Gilbert glanced at him. "Yes… It seems like you were in love and he rejected you. Then came your anger. Arthur did not care to elaborate." He paused for a moment. "It is a painful thing, no? To love someone when they don't love you back? A painful, terrible thing."

"Yes it is." Matthias admitted. "I always knew that I couldn't have him, he always placed such a barrier between me and him, but I did not stop hoping. Then… that one night… I just got carried away…"

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, you did. He said you kissed him and wouldn't let go, he said that it took you a moment to collect your mind. He said it wasn't a pleasant moment." His words had turned sharp and bitter, he couldn't hide it any longer.

Matthias looked at him, obviously surprised at his vicious words. "Why do you want to know this? It doesn't concer-"

"You have an alibi for the day Arthur was killed, a solid one too. But I can't help but notice you did have a pretty good motive."

"You bastard, are you seriously accu-"

"I gave you room to accuse me, and now I am questioning you." He words were sharp and precise, his face was hard. Silence reigned, and Matthias wouldn't look at him.

"I was drunk." He began. "We just came back from the bar. We were both unsteady and the boys were sound asleep in their beds. I went inside the house with him, we were leaning on each other and we lost balance. I was on top of him and I took advantage of that."

"I see, the kiss." Gilbert nodded. "And then?"

"By the time I noticed his struggling my hand was already under his shirt. I was frozen, shocked that I had gone as far as to frighten my best friend. He noticed my stilling and he-"

"Kicked you in the balls."

"Ha, yeah he did. And a good slap in the face." He sighed. "I was rejected again, and it hurt. So I got angry, screamed in his face that he was just playing me, that he enjoyed playing with me. I came to my senses when I saw his face, but then he started screaming, I had never seen him scream in that way before. He told me to leave, he told me I was a bastard, and he that he'll never forgive me for doing something so forceful."

Gilbert snorted. "That sure sounds like him…"

"I apologized later." Matthias continued. "He accepted my apology, but he was more careful around me after that. Like… like the barrier that had always existed between us had been restored to his full strength, after years of me trying to break through it. Arthur… Was he always that closed off? Even the boys know nothing about his childhood…"

"Yeah," Gilbert nodded. "That's Artie, somewhat closed off. There were but a few people he really, truly trusted and opened up too. I'm not surprised he kept you all in the dark about his past, after all, some things are better buried, don't you think?"

"He could've trusted me!"

"Why? What makes you so special? Because you loved him? I'm sorry to say this to you Matthias, but Arthur would've never been able to fully accept your help, or love you for that matter. There has only been one person who Arthur loved and trusted with all his heart."

Matthias stared at his hands. "And he died."

Gilbert nodded. "Yes, he did…"

"…But that doesn't change the fact that Arthur loved him."

Gilbert's eyes followed Ivan's every move while the Russian boy carefully penned down the specific locations he would be visiting that night. Where he would receive the stuff and where it was needed to be dropped off. Gilbert wasn't particularly nervous, the last few had gone without a hitch, but he knew that he had to be careful. Especially since the new agent in charge of their neighbourhood seemed to be overly suspicious of everything they did. Toris was seated on the floor, a few steps behind Ivan, he was quietly nursing the sick dog he had found earlier that afternoon, and the poor animal would most likely not survive the night. The brunette seemed entirely focused on his task, but Gilbert could see him listening to every word they said. That wasn't really a problem; none of them – the outcasts of the abandoned building- had any secret they wanted to hide, they were all perfectly aware how all came to earn money. Still, Toris being there, the dog moaning silently every few seconds, it made him anxious and uncomfortable. He had closed the door firmly upon entering, the room where they were was the only one that still had one, mostly because he did not want to bother Elizabeth with this meeting, who was in the living room and seemed pissed with him for going into such a shady business. He had laughed at her and told her that she was a fucking hypocrite, which she most certainly was.

Ivan looked up from his scribbling and waved him closer, a request which Gilbert obeyed. Ivan underlined one name on the sheet and his gaze was serious when it connected with Gilbert's.

"This man is dangerous, da?" Ivan spoke. "He likes to play games, do not confront him. Just take the product and go."

Gilbert nodded, he trusted Ivan to know what he was saying. Though he often wondered what kind of screwed up childhood the other must've had to know these kind of things. Though he never asked, the past was the past, for all of them.

"Alright." He nodded. "I'll be careful with-"

His sentence trailed of when he noticed the commotion going on in the other room. Someone was shouting some very angry French. Francis? But that boy wasn't supposed to come in today. The angry shouts came closer and with a loud BANG the door to the study was pulled open. In the doorway stood a very angry looking French boy, who determinately strutted into the room, closely followed by a confused looking Arthur, who quickly closed the door again. Before it closed, Gilbert could hear Nikolas shouting.

"Keep the fucking racket down, all of you! My brother's trying to sleep!"

There was a moment of silence, where all looked at the out of breath Frenchman who seemed too angry to say anything anymore. The silence was broken by a whimper from the dog in Toris's arms, who seemed to unfreeze in favour of petting the ruffled hair on it's furry head. Gilbert could see Ivan assessing Francis, just like Gilbert had done.

Then Arthur spoke up, grabbing Francis's arm. "Will you tell me what is bloody wrong, frog?" The French boys fists where clenched, and Gilbert was surprised to see the normally jovial boy so angry and –seemingly- a little panicked. He did not answer Arthur, however.

"…Arthur? What the fuck's going on?" Gilbert asked the other blonde. "Francis looks like he's having a fucking stroke."

"I have no idea!" Arthur answered. "He just came waltzing in, muttering and cursing in that bloody awful language of his!"

Francis shook of his best friend's arm and stepped forward towards Ivan.

With a voice that shook with emotion, Francis spoke. "I want in."

Ivan raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

Gilbert was shocked, did Francis mean what he think he meant? If so, was he fucking crazy? The boy had no need for getting involved in the business. He was no street rat after all. Gilbert saw Arthur recoil, as if being hit, he undoubtedly also understood what Francis meant, just like he understood the dangers of Francis's proposal.

"I said," Francis voice was hard and serious. "I want in." He stepped forward and presented Ivan with a note. "How many runs would I have to make to get this kind of money."

The Russian took the note, still watching Francis attentively, before moving his eyes to the little piece of paper. "…this is a lot, da?" Ivan said. "You would have to do a lot of runs, it would take time. Francis, comrade, why do you need this money? Why do you change your attitude regarding my proposal?"

"Is it possible to raise this kind of money in a few months?"

Francis and Ivan stared at each other, both with an extremely intense look within them. Gilbert himself exchanged a confused gaze with Arthur, who seemed at a loss for words. What was surprising, was that even the English boy did not know what Francis was planning.

"Da, if you take on some… high risk assignments… it is possible, but…" it wasn't often that Ivan sounded unsure, but he did now. "I would not advise it. Comrade, why do you need this money on such short notice?"

Francis's gaze hardened. "My father is useless, spineless and my mother is very sick. I cannot trust that he will do what is necessary to save my mother. Therefor I will do it."

"Your mother?" Arthur seemed to understand now. "Did her condition worsen?"

"Yes," Francis answered, turning towards his friend. "If I don't do anything soon, she'll surely…" He trailed of, a pained expression on his face, before turning once again towards Ivan. "So it IS possible?"

"Francis!" Arthur interrupted. "Didn't you hear him? He said 'high-risk', do you even comprehend how dangerous that is?"

Ivan nodded. "Arthur is right, it is not a good idea. I can set you up with other-"

"I need this money fast!" Francis said, once again enraged. "If I do nothing, my mother will surely die!"

Arthur grabbed his sleeve. "Francis-"

"No Arthur! My mother is not some lowlife who abandoned me, nor is she a drug addict, an alcoholic or a damn whore! My mother is a sweet loyal woman who's always taken care of me and who's only fault is staying with my father, who is the biggest weakling I have ever met! J'aime ma mere! I will not abandon her."

Arthur recoiled as if he had been hit, taking a step away from the other French boy. His eyebrows frowned and his eyes became cold. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Francis did not seem to notice the change of demeanour of his best friend, for he was still intently staring at Ivan, eyes begging for a chance out of the mess Armound Bonnefoy had placed his family in. Gilbert reckoned the boy really loved his mother, to be so focused on his goal, blind to the dangers and the hurt he would put others in by exposing himself to such a dangerous profession.

"It means I want to save my mother, Arthur, and I would do anything to accomplish that."

He did not hear Arthur's quiet gasp.

Gilbert took a step forward, trying to contain his anger. Because he was really angry about how Francis was behaving, and he was really angry that Francis would even think of being so reckless as to endanger his life. That world he had stepped in was not the world for children who still had loving parents and a chance in life. "Francis, stop talking bull," He hissed to his friend. "Transporting drugs from one dealer to another is dangerous enough as it is, if you take on those higher risk assignments you will not survive. Think you ass, what would your mother do if she knew you were putting yourself in this situation for her sake?"

The blonde boy spared him but a single glance. "I don't care, I will save her, Gilbert."

"Even if it means your life?"

"Yes." The answer was determent and so shocking it seemed to unfreeze the whole room. Toris shot up, the dog whining his hands. "How can you say that?" He gasped.

Gilbert shot forward and grabbed the boys collar, he knew his eyes were glaring holes in the other's and he growled in the most feral of voices. "You fucking asshole" he tightened his grip. "Don't be so fucking selfish, you French bastard!"

Ivan frowned. "Gilbert…"

"No!" Gilbert spat. "He needs to get fucking real! This ain't happening damn it!"

Francis did not do much to acknowledge the white haired boy other than a tiny gasp when he had been grabbed. The boy still looked at Ivan, a determent look on his face.

Ivan looked back and he crossed his arms. "This is a very dangerous idea, comrade, I do not think it is a wise one. I fail to see why I would help you with your mission."

Francis barked out a little hard laugh. "You need people like me Ivan and you know it."

Gilbert, still clutching Francis, looked back at Ivan who seemed quite annoyed and was frowning deeply. Francis glared back and shifted his eyes to Gilbert. "I am selfish? Did you really just say that? How do you know? What do you all know about my problems? About my love? What do you know about a child's love for his parents and vice versa? How can you tell me to put myself in front of my weak strong-willed mother? How can you tell me to sit back and let her die? I need to do something, damn it, and I need to do it fast! This is the only way I can think of. I'm not the one that's being selfish. Just because you all can't fathom my love for my mother doesn't mean you can stop me! What do you people know about love?"

It was silent after that.

What did they know? There was a reason they were all in that building together after all, they all had their own stories to tell, of survival, of endurance, of strength. But could they understand Francis? Understand what he wanted to do for his mother, just because she was his mother. How could they understand him? When all that came to mind when Gilbert thought about his parents, was the sadness of being abandoned.

When the silence was pierced, it was by a pissed of British boy, who seemed angry and sad at the same time. "You are being cruel, Francis."

And Francis whipped around, for the voice had not sounded like it normally did.

"Did I not love her? Does Gilbert not love his step-sister and does Ivan not love Toris? Would Berwald not be completely lost if Tino would be gone? Does Lukas not sing his brother to sleep every night?"

Francis paled. "…What?"

"We know about love Francis, just because we are the world's trash does not mean we do not care. Because we do. We care about you, god, you are so selfish." Arthur took a step towards his friend. "So fucking selfish. Do you not get it? We love you Francis and we would be devastated if you would leave this world. Think about that, what would we do when you are gone? What would your parents do?"

Francis seemed to deflate, a stricken look upon his face. "I…I can't let her die Arthur. I'm… very sorry, but I just can't." after a silent moment, he righted his shoulders and turned towards Ivan. "I expect an answer tomorrow morning." With that, he tried to stroll out of the room, but he was hindered by the fact that he was viciously bitch-slapped by his eternal rival.

Arthur growled. "Fucking asshole…" Before he again made a dangerous swipe at the French face. "Why do you always think you have to do everything alone?!"

Francis blinked. "What-?"

"We'll fucking help you! I'll fucking help you! Did you really think this was the only way to save Cecille? Francis, goddamn, of course we'll help…"

"But… but you all need money too-"

Gilbert grinned. "A little extra work never killed anybody." Well in the drugs business it did, but what the heck. Toris smiled and nodded his head, seemingly already busy with a plan in his head.

Ivan remained stoic, though a light spark had appeared in his eyes.

"Francis don't you get it? We love you."

Silence.

"I fucking love you, you annoying French wanker."

Letters to you.

Arthur,

No nicknames or funny business this time… She is really sick, Arthur, really, really sick. Every day I see her health worsen, her skin becoming pale and her eyes becoming dull. My father sits by her side every day, he sits by her side and is holding her hand. I can see it from a mile away, he has already give up.

But I haven't, he is weak, but I am not.

And I don't know what to do… But I'll figure it out, one way or another.

Keep writing to me, my love, it keeps me sane, it keeps me going, it keeps me happy.

Forever yours,

Francis Bonnefoy.

I hope you all liked it! Please R&R!