chapter 5: an uninvited visitor and the worst tea ever
Alfred would have ignored the doorbell but after a few seconds as it was constantly pushed over and over he groggily stood up still in his boxers and not even giving a flying fuck went downstairs. He told Mathew to stay there and he took extra time to make his voice convincing and reassured him he'd be back. He walked out of the room his feeling of stupidity growing with each step downstairs.
It had been the worst night of his life Alfred wasn't a cry baby, maybe Mathew was but Alfred sure the heck was not, and yet all three nights he had cried and cried and cried and even when Mathew woke up he lost his temper and ended up bawling like a baby. Sure Mathew cried right along side him but it was Mathew covered in marks and in pain it was Mathew who looked like he had been through hell and back and it was Mathew who had every right to be angry and bitter towards him. But instead it was him who was getting mad, him crying out of fear not real pain, it seemed he was the one who needed reassurance rather him reassuring his brother.
He shuddered feeling as if time was stretching on and on as he stopped halfway down the steps. He wanted to run from the responsibility, he wanted France or Britain to come and make things better, he wanted to curl up get drunk on pop and have his only worry be the sinking economy, stupid countries and the latest horror movie he had persuaded Japan to give him. He wanted to go back to being obnoxious and loud to taking pride in ticking off Britain at the meetings. He wanted to go back to smiling and not worrying, but something shattered in him, perhaps it was his childhood but something had drastically changed Alfred could feel it, and as he reached the ground floor he could feel it as he opened the door he could feel it as he slugged Britain in the face.
He had not expected Britain; yet as his fist made contact with his father's face he realized he would be the only one who bothered enough about Canada to even show his face. His worrying father who was so stupid sometimes. Yet how could he possibly let this happen to Mathew,…even though Alfred from a young age knew he took up most of his father's time and that Mathew always seemed to be in the shadows. But still how could he not notice Mathew's serious problem.
Suddenly America staggered back even before his father began yelling. Was Mathew doing this to himself? Was Alfred the cause of it all? Did his brother join a gang or something? Was he overreacting? Under reacting? Damn he was old enough to be considered an adult and he had no idea what to do!
"BLODY HELL WHAT WAS THAT FOR," Alfred's mind snapped back to the present where he found an angry Britain up in his face or at least he would have been if he didn't come up to Alfred's shoulder but Arthur, his father's name, always had made him feel smaller than he was so he backed up a bit raising his hands before realizing the reason he had punched his father in the first place.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? NOW YOU SHOW YOU'RE FACE? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN THE PAST THREE DAYS? DO YOU EVEN REALIZE YOUR OTHER SON ALMOST DIED? DO YOU NOW HOW MESSED UP MATHEW IS RIGHT NOW?"
"I came when I could….." Arthur said slightly bitter at the greeting he got making his way inside.
"Yeah well it's not enough….," said Alfred refusing to let his father off the hook so easily. Britain sighed pulling up a chair gesturing for Alfred to sit. Alfred did so noting uncomfortably how his father seemed uninterested in Mathew, and that he was now sitting a bit too close to comfort to Alfred sighing heavily.
"It's nice," Arthur said randomly looking around. "Your house," he added seeing Alfred's brow furrow with confusion.
"Uh…..thanks?"
"Alfred? I think it's a good time to talk now."
"But Mathew…..."
"Can wait," he assured the bewildered American who was so confused he had forgotten his anger towards his father. Britain then stood up abruptly and then made tea going on about how sorry he was and how he should have raised them better, and how hard it is to be a parent sometimes with a problem child like Mathew. Wait what? Alfred was about to say something when a hot mug of tea was pressed into his hand and Alfred too tired to think straight forgot his argument and sipped it gratefully.
"So you understand?" Arthur asked nervously Alfred who had half dozed off half been focusing on the tea nodded absent mindedly suddenly feeling really drowsy as he set down his empty cup.
"Good lad, very good we'll be going now," Arthur stated briskly as he quickly cleaned up the mugs.
"We'll…?" Alfred slurred struggling to keep his eyes open.
"yes your coming to of course back to my house with me and im never letting you go ever again~" he hummed in pleasure helping a disoriented America to his feet.
"b…b….but…..Mattie…," Alfred finally said his brain moving at a sluggish speed as they went out the door.
"Who? Oh your wanker of a brother," Arthur said dragging Alfred into his car his voice suddenly becoming angry his eyes narrowing and a sharper edge to his voice.
"well you see your brother could die for all I care I have no need for that problem child now that your back with me and this time I'll never let you go," and with that the car came to life and sped away the American in the back drugged and passed out cold. Unknown by either the driver or the prisoner a pair of watery violet eyes watched the car drive away and a pale deathly cold hand touched the window before it slid down with its owner who crumpled to the ground heart beat faint.
Hey readers sorry i know its been awhile. i was forced against my will to work at a camp in the middle of nowhere;) but I'm back now just in time for summer to end..."oh boy." anyways i promise to write alot to make up for the lost time so there a lot more to come. enjoy!