Ivan fell asleep almost instantly as he touched the sleeping bag on the floor. Finally! His heavy eyes could fall and he could find some rest. Alfred watched the other boy sleep, looking peaceful and not at all like his usually creepy self. He almost...almost seemed like a small innocent child when he slept. What a weird thought.

It was late in the night when they all returned home but Alfred knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. How could he? He was still pretty worried, even after seeing Papa and his nerves were still hyper from all the events of the day. He wondered what Mattie was doing...

The American left his bedroom, leaving the lights off for the sleeping teen as he went downstairs. He found his brother lying on the family room floor, a large book opened in front of him. The younger twin didn't look up until the other spoke.

"Whatcha doing?" Alfred asked as violet blue eyes turned to him.

"Looking at our photo album." Matthew murmured, squirming to the side so his brother could lie down next to him. Alfred accepted the invitation, lying on his stomach, his side pressing against his brother's lightly. He could understand why Matthew would want to look at the album, it was filled with happy pictures of Papa.

He looked at the page his brother was on and smiled. Most of the pictures were of himself, smiling brightly as an adorable little boy. Man was he an awesome kid. Matthew was in a few of them, mostly in the background because Alfred was kind of a camera whore when he was little. Fewer were of Arthur who was sometimes captured candidly or sitting with the twins. The twins were pretty sure that Papa had his own collection of pictures of Dad, though they weren't as...appropriate.

"I remember that." Alfred commented, pointing at one of the photos. It showed himself, swinging on a swing and grinning at the camera while Francis, with a pleasant smile, pushed Matthew on the neighboring swing. "That was when we went to that park for the first time. And we pushed Dad down the slide right into a mud puddle." He added with a laugh.

Matthew chuckled lightly, remembering the amusing snapshot of their childhood. It had been Papa's idea to do so and it was quite worth the rant they received for it. "I think Papa took a picture of it."

They turned the page, the first picture showing a very surprised Englishman, being pushed down the small slide backwards by small hands. The next showed a still surprised Englishman, sitting in a puddle of mud, covered in the substance. The next, he was angry, glaring at the camera, or more precisely, the cameraman.

Then Alfred had started rolling in the mud puddle claiming he could be dirty because Daddy was dirty. Arthur soon accused Francis of being a bad influence and they started arguing. Afterward, the odd family had left the park and returned home. Once there, Francis had tried to convince Arthur to let him wash him as 'punishment' which the Englishman flatly refused. A few minutes later the twins could tell that their Papa had succeeded in getting in the shower by the surprised scream their Dad made.

Alfred smiled, life had been quite nice. Matthew turned the page and they both frowned. No, Alfred did not quite like this part. The pictures showed their old home, the window broken for the first time. A time skip seemed to happened, showing a brand new home, the home they still lived in.

There hadn't been any incentive to take pictures at that time, nobody wanted to preserve those memories. Matthew turned the page quickly, seeing themselves as 8 year olds, happy once more. Their birthdays, their first days at school. Matthew's smile grew slightly as Gilbert soon became a recurring character in the story of their lives. Grinning mischievously as he tried to get in every single picture.

The only one he wasn't grinning in was the time they found an abandoned little chick in their backyard with a broken wing. Gilbert had almost been to the point of tears, though he refused to admit it. He held the tiny bird in his hands as Matthew had pleaded with Papa to fix it. The grin returned as Gilbert showed proudly the small bird with its wing in make shift brace of sorts.

Many pictures afterward had shown the bird sitting upon the albino's snow white hair. Gilbert had always had some weird bond with animals. The chick eventually flew away as it grew, much to the albino's disappointment. Matthew wondered if Gilbert still thought of the little bird...

The twins looked up at the sound of footsteps, seeing their father come in with his embroidery basket.

"Hey Dad." They greeted as the man sat down on the sofa. "Can't sleep?"

"I blame the frog... What are you two up to?" He answered, looking down at them curiously.

"Looking at our photo album." They answered together before looking back down at the volume.

"Ah" Arthur nodded, taking out his needle and threading it skillfully. He took out his fabric and started to work. Alfred pursed his lips, his hands supporting his head as he looked up at his father.

"Dad...could you tell us a story?" He asked awkwardly.

"I thought you were too old for stories." Arthur teased with a small smile, not slowing his movements.

"Not that kind of story. I mean... Like a story of you and Papa when you were dating... A happy one..."

Arthur's green eyes softened and he halted his needlework to look at his sons. He thought a moment, searching his mind for something to offer the boys. Most of his recollections were either embarrassing or inappropriate. Something happy? Oh, wait. That was a nice memory.

"What about our proposal story?"

The two boys grimaced, red blooming on their cheek as they glared at their father. "We know that story! Papa proposed and you did it like rabbits 'til dawn." Alfred spat hurriedly, not really wanting the graphic visual Papa usually described to stain his mind once more. Really, Papa was way to traumatizing with his stories...

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I mean the real story."

Two pairs of eyes blinked curiously. "The real story?" They questioned at the same time and Arthur smiled.

"Yes, the frog doesn't like the real one because he wasn't the one to propose."

"What?" Two identical cries, the pair sat up and leaned in to hear the story. Papa didn't propose? But, but that didn't make any sense!

"Yes. I'm the one who proposed to the damn Frenchman. No matter how romantic he claims to be, the truth was he was afraid of commitment. I can see why, his single life wasn't very...monogamous." Arthur grimaced in distaste before turning back to his sons. "He always used to tell me how one day he would sweep me off my feet and take me to a beautiful church to be wed in. Or that fireworks would bloom in the skies as he placed a ring on my finger. One was that we would be in a field of roses, the moon shining down on us as he asked for my hand. This was all a bunch of nonsense though." He chuckled. "I soon realized the frog was never going to work up the nerve to do any of it. So, I decided to do it myself."

"Way to go Dad! Be the man for once." Alfred interrupted with a mischievous grin. Arthur glared at him for his comment and didn't grace it with a response. Even if he found himself to be the bottom most of the time didn't mean he was less of a man!

"Anyway, during one of our dates I led him toward that Italian Restaurant we first went to. Francis was smiling at the place as I bent down. He thought I was tying my shoe and yes, I was going down on one knee to propose. If I was going to do this, then I would do it the proper way, the gentlemanly way." His smile grew slightly as he continued recalling the memory. "He was so surprised when I took his hand in my own. He just stared down at me as I asked him. After I told him to hurry up he answered me quickly, excitedly and wrapped me in a hug and kiss. Then I realized what I had just done and that I was going to be stuck with bloody frog forever."

"Aww, Daddy does love Papa!" Alfred tease, earning him an angry glare along with a light blush.

"Of course I do. I wouldn't of married him if I didn't." He huffed, crossing his arms, not enjoying the light giggles his sons let out. Once they quieted, he patted the spots beside him for his sons to take. "Now then, why not bring the book up here?" he offered and the twins nodded.

The trio spent the rest of the night huddled on the sofa, gathered around a book of memories until finally sleep overcame them. It was a nice night.

Sadly, above them, Ivan wasn't having such a good night.

Darkness. Coldness. Surrounding him, suffocating him, strangling him, killing him. A vast blackness continued forever in front of him, never interrupted. Not a soul dotted the horizon, not a figure broke the darkness. He was alone.

Always alone.

He let out a piercing scream but heard nothing. His mouth opened and nothing came out. Silence. Deafening silence that burned his ears and darkness that burned his eyes. He yelled again, desperate for some sort of relief from the oppressing muteness. Nothing.

He started to run, footsteps silent on the hard ground as the background never changed around him. It felt as if he was running in place though his legs soon began to buckle from the effort. He fell to the ground in a quiet, noiseless heap. He was on his knees, looking around for some sort of escape, some sort of salvation. His breath, coming out quick and shallow, could be seen in the frigid air.

The silence fell away as he heard a buzzing in his ear, a low murmur that soon became a shrieking note. He covered his ears futilely, the sound permeating his hands to no avail. He screamed again, and this time the sound was heard, adding to the horrible cacophony crowding his ears.

Then, just as suddenly as it came, the noise was gone. Silence reigned once more as his body shook and his breath began to slow. His eyes, squeezed shut from the pain of the noise, opened slowly. Violet eyes widened at the sight of a face mere inches from his own. Cold, dark black eyes staring at him with such fury. Pale hair sat upon the deathly white face. Cruel smirk adorned the gaunt, skinny visage.

He screamed again, muscles cramped in fright as he tried desperately to get away. The figure lashed out quickly, gripping his wrists and pulling him back. His skin seared as the coldness of the mans fingers burned his flesh. He tried to wrench free but the hold only grew stronger, threatening to break his bone.

He whimpered pathetically, the man having the effect of turning him into a small child with only his presence. Fear dominated his mind as terrified tears rolled down his pale cheeks. He wanted him to go away, to go away and never bother him again. Why must he continue to torment him every night? The man seemed to be able to read his mind.

"You will never be rid of me." The voice seethed malevolently, his words dripping in venom. It permeated the others barriers, poisoning his mind and brought forth more hot tears.

"Go away. Please. Just go away!" He pleaded, his voice loud and throat raw from his screams.

A cruel smirk flashed upon the horrid face before he threw the other away, laughing as he hit the floor with a thud. The other sat up, drawing his knees up in a protective shell as he whimpered to himself. He knew he couldn't run, couldn't escape the man.

"You miss your sisters don't you? But you don't deserve to be with them. You're a murderer. Perhaps this is God's way of punishing you?" The other accused, enjoying the flinch his words caused.

The other shook his head desperately, not wanting to accept it. A muffled scream made him look up and he stiffened. His elder sister, trapped in the man's hold looking pleadingly at him.

"Katyusha!" He cried out standing up, only to have her fade was too late. He was alone again, alone with his tormentor.

"Katyusha is gone. When will you accept that she left you to be alone forever?" The man spoke but his voice came from everywhere in a loud whisper. Enveloping him so he couldn't fight it off.

"Nothing can save you. No one would want to save you. You're a murderer. You're alone and will always be alone. Clinging to your sanity as everything crumbles away."

"Stop!" He shrieked, covering his ears but in vain. The voice was already in his head, multiplying and breeding until it filled his skull with its words.

"Alone. No one will help you. No one will save you. No one could ever love such disgusting homicidal filth as yourself. You are doomed to isolation. Forever clinging on the very edge, and no one will ever help you up onto solid ground. You are forever alone."

He screamed again, as he crouched onto the ground in a desperate attempt to get away from everything. There was coldness, there was darkness and there was nothing.

Violet eyes snapped open as Ivan sucked in air and sat straight up. His chest was heaving, his skin shiny with sweat and his hair messy from rolling in his sleep. He relaxed as he noticed he was in Alfred's room. That he was okay and Alfred had not been there to witness his moment of weakness where he succumbed to his nightly terrors. He took in a deep comforting sigh and wrapped his scarf around his neck, finding comfort in the warm embrace.

The bed beside him was untouched and he began to wonder where Alfred actually was. He stood up quietly and left the room. He peeked into Alfred's brother's room to find it lacking the twins. He frowned in confusion and continued down the hall. He opened the master bedroom, even more confused to find that Alfred's British father was also absent. The guest bedroom yielded the same results.

He climbed down the stairs slowly, mindful of any noises and found the living room to have a light on. The lamp was the source of the low level light that shown in the dim room. It revealed the missing family to be on the couch.

Arthur sat in the middle, barely awake from what his slumped figure demonstrated. Using his lap as a pillow were Alfred and Matthew on opposite sides. Their blond hair fanned across his legs and their faces looked so peaceful. They were breathing evenly and slowly, both asleep. A thick book sat upon one of the small tables by the couch. Arthur's fingers stroked the boys hair softly, lovingly until they froze at the sound of Ivan.

"Oh, hello Ivan." Arthur whispered quietly, tiredly. A lazy smile graced his face, so different then his usual scowl. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was." Ivan answered, violet eyes focused on Alfred's sleeping form. His looking younger with the absence of his glasses, his hair splayed out like a golden halo. Ivan wanted to touch the strands, feel them in his own fingers before tracing his face, his noise, his soft lips. He had never had such an urge before.

"Well, since your here. Do you mind helping me? I'm afraid these two are much too big for me to carry to their rooms but you seem to be quite strong." Arthur asked, not bothered in the loss of a little pride when he was so tired.

"Da." Ivan nodded and fought back the urge to get Alfred first. He bent down and scooped up Matthew into his arms before carrying the sleeping form into his bedroom and setting him down on the bed. Arthur had followed him, setting to work at untying the sleeping teen's shoes. He did it with the skill of someone accustomed to such a job, though the last time had been when the shoes were much smaller. He pulled the covers over the younger twin and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Matthew made soft noise before rolling onto his side tiredly.

Ivan went down to get Alfred. Thankfully, Arthur remained upstairs and Ivan found himself alone with Alfred's sleeping form. He bent down, touching the golden strands, finding them surprisingly soft. He touched the others cheek, a finger tracing his lips before moving down the unblemished neck. Alfred's body shivered, squirming slightly and Ivan pulled back. The teen made a muffled grumbling noise but did nothing more.

Ivan picked him up carefully, enjoying the feel of the warm body in his arms. He climbed the stairs slowly, finding Alfred to be lighter than he thought he'd be, though not as light as his brother. He deposited him on the bed where Arthur was waiting. The Englishman set to work on taking off his son's shoes, stripping the socks because he knew Alfred preferred to sleep without them.

After kissing him like he did Matthew, Arthur left the room. Ivan stared at Alfred as he slept with a small smile. He wanted to sleep next to him, to feel the warmth that seemed to exude from the American in waves. But he hesitated, Alfred had made it clear that he was unwanted in the bed with him. Usually, he wouldn't listen to others but because it was Alfred... He would respect his wishes. He settled back down on his sleeping bag and hoped for a dreamless sleep.

Matthew, Alfred and Ivan were getting ready to leave for the hospital. Arthur wanted them to pick Francis up as soon as possible and, since Toris' home was in the same direction as the medical building, they would drop Ivan off afterward.

Arthur refused to go, stating he had to do something... 'important'. The twins had reddened slightly, not really knowing what their father had in mind, though they were sure it was something inappropriate. Especially when they had been specifically told not to tell him that Arthur was preparing for his arrival. Ivan thought Arthur was being cruel again, not showing any semblance of sympathy for his hurt loved one. He still didn't like it.

The trio were about to leave when Matthew opened the door to reveal an albino with his fist raised, ready to knock.

"Matt!" Gilbert yelled out hugging the blond tightly and trying to contain the urge to kiss him. "Are you ok? Is Francis ok? The awesome one is here to make it all better!" He soothed in his loud voice. Red eyes locked on surprised blue and he quickly added, "Same for you Al." to cover himself. Couldn't have him suspecting anything.

Matthew laughed as he pulled away. "Yeah, I'm ok. We were just going to pick Papa up. Do you want to come?"

"Sure, want to make sure the old perv is okay." He grinned. Matthew rolled his eyes, unable to defend his Papa because sadly, he was a pervert.

The pair started talking to each other as they went to the car. Alfred followed with Ivan behind him, seemingly unnoticed by the albino. Matthew got in the driver's seat and Gilbert (after calling shotgun) got in beside him. Alfred huffed as he climbed into the back with the Russian.

"Woah... Whats the freak doing here?" Gilbert asked, surprised as red eyes locked on violet. Ivan gave him a creepy smile, he didn't like the loud one that seemed to hover around Matthew. He was quite annoying.

"He got stuck here because of the blizzard." Matthew answered, pulling out of the driveway carefully. Ivan gave the albino a smile dripping with malice and Gilbert quickly looked to Matthew again.

He had made sure to get to him as soon as he could after receiving the phone call last night where his boyfriend was crying over the potential loss of his father. Because of the stupid blizzard Gilbert couldn't even comfort him in person! It was so not awesome. But he was here now, and as soon as Ivan and Alfred left he was going kiss all the hurt away. Yeah...

The trip was loud, filled with a German voice along with American ones. Ivan remained silent, not really listening to the conversation and preferring to look outside. Really, to him, the self proclaimed Prussian was a nuisance who only filled the air with his incessant chattering. He wondered if he could shove something in his mouth to quiet him. Perhaps a shoe?

Before his thoughts could get darker they reached the hospital. They entered it quickly, asking for the release of Francis Bonnefoy. The nurse nodded and in ten minutes Papa sat in a wheelchair in front of them all.

"Bonjour! Hmm? Where is Arthur?" Francis asked with a tilt of his head. He had wanted to him to pick him up and kiss him.

"He needed to finish some work he was too worried to do yesterday." Alfred lied easily and Francis nodded absently. Arthur was known to be like that, much to his annoyance.

"D'accord. Well, let us go yes?" He said with smile, he really wanted to go home and get away from the hospital. And he wanted to see his stubborn husband who couldn't even find the time to pick him up! The nerve... he'd make sure to punish the Englishman...

Matthew nodded, beginning to wheel his Papa out to the exit. Gilbert walked beside him, talking to him animatedly about what had happened yesterday at his own home. Something about Feliciano wanting to go out and play in the snow during the storm and West having to physically restrain him to stop him from killing himself out there.

But, nothing was ever that easy for the Bonnefoy family as a nurse narrowed her eyes, peering at the Russian.

"Wait. That's him! The one who broke the vending machine!" The nurse accused suddenly, staring straight at Ivan. The Russian turned around slightly perplexed before he nodded in understanding. That's right, he had broken the machine in order to get Alfred's snack. He didn't think it was that big of a deal, though the woman seemed angry. He guess he'd have to pay for it or something.

Of course, Alfred had a different idea.

Alfred felt a little guilty because Ivan had broken the vending machine in order to get his snack. Now the other was going to be punished for it. That didn't seem very fair. Alfred, always the hero, decided to save Ivan from the cruel hands of the nurse. But, he didn't quite think things through. The idea of offering to pay for the damages himself didn't cross his mind until he was a few hallways away.

No, instead he had grabbed Ivan's wrist, yelled 'Run!' and bolted down the hall. He left behind a perplexed looking nurse, a cackling Prussian urging him on, a confused Papa and a disappointed brother. But no matter! He was the hero, saving the day!

"He's such a moron." Matthew sighed before turning to the now angry nurse. "I'm sorry for my brother's idiotic behavior. Can you add the damages to our bill?" He asked politely and she smiled. What a sweet boy. She nodded and did so before turning to some of the nurses idling around. She told them to go find the two boys and they set off searching.

Francis chuckled lightly, "Alfred does love to save others." He mused. "Anyway, wheel me to the car, Matthieu. Afterward, you can go find your brother. You can probably find him better than the nurses."

"Ok." Matthew agreed, he and his brother always could sense vaguely where the other was. He wasn't entirely sure why, he just assumed it was a weird twin thing.

Alfred weaved through the hallways, dragging a confused Ivan behind him. They passed startled doctors, nurses and patients alike as they flew by. He felt like an action hero from a movie, escaping the clutches of the evil minions as he rescued his leading lady. Wait...Did that mean Ivan was his leading lady? Wasn't he suppose to be the villain? Whatever, there were more important things to focus on.

The American's blue eyes darted around as he ran, looking for some place to hide. He grinned when he spotted a closet door. Without a word he threw it open, stuffed Ivan inside and himself before closing it shut. The room was small, much to small to house the both of them. Ivan winced as his back was pushed against shelving and his head hit against the hanging light bulb. Alfred was pressed against his chest, his back touching the door.

The pair panted from the impromptu escape, their hot breath mingling in the small dark space. Ivan felt Alfred squirm about before the dim light bulb lit the closet, he must have been searching for the switch.

"Alfred, why are we here?" Ivan asked because he was terribly confused at this sudden turn in events. Of course, he didn't much mind how Alfred was forced to press against him. The American was so very warm against him.

"Shh... We're hiding from the evil henchmen!" Alfred hissed back.

"...I do not understand." Ivan stated, tilting his head in confusion. Henchmen? Did Alfred hit his head somewhere during their flight from the nurse?

"Just shut up!" Alfred insisted. Was Ivan trying to blow their cover? Didn't he understand that the hero was trying his best to save him? They just needed to hide here for a while then sneak out the back. Perfect plan.

Ivan realized he wasn't going to get an answer and started focusing on their current predicament. Alfred seemed to be concentrating on his thoughts, not fully grasping how close they were. How he was basically pushed into the taller's chest. Ivan quite liked it and suddenly had the urge to touch the other, if only a little. It wasn't as strong as the urge last night, when he watched the other sleep so peacefully.

Russian hands lifted, running gloved fingers lightly up the American's hips and sides. Alfred let out a surprised giggle before swatting at the hand quickly. He blushed in embarrassment and sent a harsh glare at the smirking teen.

"The hell do you think you're doing?"

"Lifting my hand to scratch my nose." Ivan lied easily, interested in the others previous reaction to his light touches. "Did you just giggle?" What an amusing turn of events.

"I did NOT!" Alfred snapped quickly and didn't like how violet eyes narrowed, nor how the smirk grew. He took a step back finding his backside to be pressed against the door completely. He was trapped. Shit, this was probably some commie plot all from the beginning! How could he have fallen for it?

And suddenly he was attacked. Large hands grabbed at his sides, running along the sensitive skin and tickling it cruelly. Alfred started laughing at the light touches, squirming at the door and trying to get the hands to stop. His sides shook and his previous instructions of keeping silent were forgotten. "Stop! Please! Fine hahaha I'm t-ticklish!" He cried out, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. This was so not fair!

Ivan was enjoying this way to much. The way Alfred's body squirmed from his touches, how his body reacted against his will because of him. He liked it very much. And Alfred's laughs were quite contagious, the sound swelling something in his chest. He couldn't help but let out a few giggles himself.

Of course, like everything good in his life, Alfred was suddenly wrenched away from his grasp.

Ivan blinked in surprise as he was blinded by light and Alfred fell away. In a surprised yelp the American landed on the floor after the door was yanked open. He groaned on the cold tile, rubbing at his aching back. The light illuminated his red embarrassed face and his heaving chest as he tried to steady his breathing.

"Disgusting. Is this what they raised you to do?" One of the nurses sent to search for them spat furiously. Her hand still clutching the doorknob as she looked down at the hurt teen with unmasked repulsion. "Damn fagots raising fagot children." She hissed. Ivan didn't recognize the word, but from Alfred's reaction, he assumed it wasn't a compliment.

Laughter was quickly silences, its sudden absence made anger bubble in Ivan's chest toward the woman. Still, he remained still, unsure why he felt this way nor how to reacts.

Alfred had gotten to his feet quite quickly once hearing the nurses accusations. He ignored the pain from his fall and sent her a venomous glare, ready to defend himself.

"The hell is that suppose to mean?" He growled out, giving the woman a chance to redeem herself.

"You know perfectly well."

Alfred gritted his teeth, what a bitch. "First off, my dads are fucking awesome and what they do is none of your fucking business. Second, Ivan and I weren't even doing anything. And even if we were it has nothing to do with you. So why don't you just shut the fuck up and keep your opinions to yourself!"

"What a filthy mouth, though it suits a filthy fagot boy like yourself." the woman sneered, undeterred. Alfred was absolutely fuming. He was sick of this kind of treatment, she had no right to fucking criticize him for something like that. He wanted to punch that fucking face in-

"Alfred."

The American turned around at the soft call, seeing his brother standing there. His twin wore a small disappointed frown. Alfred felt his anger leave him. Mattie was right, he shouldn't give the damn woman the pleasure to see him angry from her words. He should just leave.

"Yeah, I know..." he sighed, beginning to walk toward his brother. Ivan followed, still confused over what exactly was happening. But the woman felt like throwing just one more punch.

"You know, it's quite disgusting. Two fagots each get a little boy to play with. Tell me, did you enjoy it when they touched you?"

And Alfred saw red. "You fucking bitch! How dare you even insinuate that! Papa and Dad would NEVER touch us!" He screeched, ready to fucking kill her.

"Alfred stop!" Matthew pleaded, the only thing preventing Alfred from doing something he would later regret. He held him around the waist, keeping him away from the nurse. The feat was quite difficult with Alfred thrashing around in his arms.

"Let me punch her Mattie! Just once!" Alfred hissed out as the woman walked away slowly, mockingly. How dare she? Oh she was going to fucking pay, he would kill her for even thinking something so sick!

"Let it go Alfred. Hurting her wont change anything." Matthew insisted.

"Would it be better if I were to punch her?" Ivan inquired, reminding the two of his presence. Alfred obviously wanted to hurt the women but for some reason couldn't, maybe he would enjoy it if he did it himself? Alfred quieted down letting out a loud sigh.

"No Ivan. Lets just go home. I'm tired of all this fucking drama."

Ivan blinked repeatedly but nodded and followed the twins out the hospital and into the car. He had a feeling he wouldn't be enlightened on what had exactly happened any time soon.

The dinner table was quiet and tense. Francis had been confused as his sons came back from the hospital agitated and silent. They refused to tell him anything as they went to drop Ivan off. When they returned home they still kept quiet and instead brought him to his bedroom door. Alfred was usually very expressive when angry, ready to rant about all his apparent troubles. Yet, this time, he remained mute and deep in thought. Though, his face showed his displeasure and anger.

Gilbert had left after Matthew had asked him to. Stating that he wasn't in the mood to hang out with his awesomeness. The tense atmosphere surrounding the twins was nearly tangible and Gilbert obeyed his boyfriend without many protests.

In the master bedroom was a surprise. Ah, so that's why Arthur had remained at home. Francis smirked as he ate up the sight of his husband, wearing a revealing nurse outfit. The white fabric hugged his slim form tightly, cutting off a little past the hips. His eyes were dark and he wore predatory smirk that sent shivers down the Frenchman's spine. The Brit was probably still mad at being called a prude, which meant they were going to have amazing sex.

So, Francis pushed back his sons problems to the back of his mind. He would interrogate them at dinner, right now he had an urgent medical appointment with Nurse Kirkland. He had been having some very strange pains in his lower regions. Perhaps the kind nurse could examine him thoroughly?

A few (mind blowing) rounds and a shower later he was faced with two gloomy sons at the dinner table. Arthur was immediately perplexed, wondering why the twins were in such a mood. He had remained in the dark about the twin's current mood and when he asked them he was also refused. The Englishman was much more impatient than his french counterpart.

"Alfred, what's wrong. Tell us already." Arthur finally demanded, loosing his patience.

Alfred let out a sigh, stabbing at his chicken and hunching forward. "...This nurse was being a bitch."

"Language, Alfred" Arthur reminded, almost on instinct.

"But she was!"

"What did she do?" Francis asked in a sweet voice.

"She was yelling at me because she thought me and Ivan were...doing things. Which is totally gross cause he's a commie! Anyway, she said that since we were raised by gays, and she used a much nastier word, then we had to be gay. So I started yelling at her and I may have cursed but she totally deserved. Then she called me filthy. Mattie came and stopped me from ripping her face off. We were leaving when she...She said that since you guys are gay then...you must of like...touched us and stuff. So then I got really angry and started yelling and wanted to attack her but Mattie dragged me away and that's that." Alfred finished, glaring at his plate and stabbing more poultry. Fucking bitch ruining his entire day with her damn words.

"...What a bloody bitch." Arthur spat, eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on his fork. "Must of been the same harlot who threatened to stop treating Francis."

"Quoi?" Francis asked alarmed, they were going to stop treating him? Arthur waved a hand at him, a signal that he would fill him in later.

"Alfred you mustn't let them get to you like that, alright?" Arthur cautioned, after a moment. If you reacted you were just playing into their hands.

"Yeah, I know." Alfred nodded tiredly. " It's just... I never heard that last accusation..."

"They're a lot of ignorant people out there Alfred, who like to think horrible things." Arthur sighed. Francis touched his hand under the table reassuringly and squeezed it. Arthur returned the action but made no move to acknowledge it otherwise.

"I...I remembering hearing that..." Matthew murmured quietly as all eyes fell on him. He stared at his food a moment before continuing. "At the old neighborhood...But I didn't know what it meant back then..."

They all grew silent and picked at their food as the tense atmosphere crackled around them.

Sorry this is a day late. Life is crap sometimes. I hope you guys had a Happy Halloween!

I'm not feeling to great at the moment. I'm just having constant headaches and am so tired. *Sighs*
Anyway I hope this chapters good because my head is pounding and that affects my writing.
I really hope I don't disapoint since everyone always leaves me such nice reviews.
I love you all!
Short authors note is short because I'm all bleh.

Review, because I love you so much that I update when I feel like crap. :)