(A/N: So one of the reasons why school is getting hectic is because I'm starting up a research paper for English. Guess what I chose for my topic: human trafficking. Hey, if I have to write a paper, I'm gonna research something that will help me in the long run.)

CHAPTER V

Okay, who in their right mind was ringing the doorbell at nine in the morning? Alfred groaned and reluctantly rose from the sofa, rubbing at his eyes in the bright sunlight. With much resentment, he unlocked the front door to find Elizaveta standing outside with two frappecinos. "Huh," she said in surprise, "funny, I thought you'd be awake by now."

"Is that your way of saying 'you look like shit'?"

"Yep," Elizaveta answered, handing him one of the frappecinos as she sauntered past him into the house. "Anyway, I came by to check out how the situation's going." She walked around the counter and sat on one of stools, facing the doorway. Noticing the two cereal bowls on the counter, along with the box of Lucky Charms Alfred had forgotten to put away, she naturally inquired about it. "You already had breakfast? I thought I just woke you up."

"Uh, no," Alfred replied, making his way over and sitting opposite her. He was still groggy as he ran his fingers through the short blonde hair. "Those are from last night." The previous hours of darkness flashed through his mind, and he moaned again, placing his hand over his forehead. It had definitely been a 'not as planned' kind of encounter.

"All right, just suck up your frap and tell me what happened," she told him before drinking her own. "I know this second bowl isn't from your dad since he'd never eat Lucky Charms. Whose is it then?"

He took a slurp of the frosty drink before replying, "Matthew's." Judging by how Elizaveta stopped mid-sip, he figured she hadn't been expecting that answer.

"No way, he woke up?!"

"Yeah, sometime around midnight, but he's asleep now."

"So what happened? You gotta tell me!" Her enthusiasm was puzzling, but he complied nonetheless.

"Okay, um, I came downstairs, got some cereal, and then he walked into the room." He looked up with Elizaveta staring at him as if she were on the edge of her seat. "Okay what is up with you today?"

"Just continue!"

"…Well, I kinda startled him, and then I found out he couldn't see well, so I got him some cereal and then got an old pair of glasses. Then I just tried to make small-talk and I asked him what his age was. He said he was sixteen, but then he…he got all suspicious on me."

"What do you mean?"

Alfred sputtered about as he tried to find the right words. "It's just- he, he thought…I mean, augh."

"Come on, Al, you can do it!" Her green eyes were sparkling with excitement in the suspense.

Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "He- he thought I was…was trying to…just, sleep with him."

Elizaveta's mouth dropped open at this installment. To think that she'd discover the perfect yaoi scenario in her own life…what better luck could she ask for?

"And I tried to explain I wasn't thinking that at all, but he wouldn't listen!"

"What did you do?! Did he force himself upon you?! Did he demand that you pay him?! Oh my god, this is insane!"

"What?! What- where is this coming from?!"

"Al, he's a prostitute, remember?"

Oh…Of course, Elizaveta wasn't there when Matthew told him what was really going on. How could he fault her for still thinking that when he'd figured the same just yesterday?

"No, no, Eliz," he attempted to correct her, "he's not a prostitute. He…he ran away from a human trafficking ring. He was like a sex slave."

Overcome with shock, all she could utter was, "…Oh…oh my god…"

Alfred rested his arms on the counter, his head sinking close to the granite surface. "I just…I feel terrible for thinking that…"

"Al, you didn't know- none of us knew that. I agree, I feel terrible now too, but we didn't know any better. All we've ever had in terms of prostitution exposure has been on television or in movies. And, well, there is that one part of the town that's rumored to be whore-central, but I've never been there, so I don't know if that's true."

"But still, we just assumed he was a whore right off the bat! Isn't that prejudice? Everything our country fights against?" His voice softened as he continued, "…Oh god, what if we really had left him behind?"

"Al, you were the one who said all that mattered was that he was sick and needed help. You weren't just going to leave him there, and neither was I. I have no idea about Gil, but, well, if Rod had been by himself… Look, there's no reason to beat yourself up over this."

"Eliz," he addressed her, his voice somber, "you didn't see him. You didn't see how scared he was. It's something I'm never gonna be able to forget."

"Al…" she began, only to be followed by a sharp gasp. With her stare focused behind Alfred, he decided to look over his shoulder in curiosity, only to find Matthew standing warily somewhat behind the wall. His expression was just as stunned as Elizaveta's, as if he hadn't expected to be spotted.

"How long have you been standing there?" Alfred inquired.

"Since she told you to 'suck up your frap'," Matthew answered, diverting his eyes away in a timid manner. "The doorbell woke me up, and when I came out, I saw you talking, but you didn't notice me. See, I have this knack for turning 'invisible', I guess."

"…Look, Matthew, I-"

"Don't apologize," he interrupted him. "I can't blame you for thinking that about me. I mean, just remember how I was dressed. You made an honest mistake, and, and I should've handled it better. I-I wasn't thinking clearly; I got so upset because I thought you were trying to use me, and I'd just gotten free, and I was so judgmental-"

"But so was I-"

"But I was the one that said all that stuff…about…a hero complex…and such…" He worked up the courage to walk forward and take a seat next to the American. "I just…don't know how to trust people. You were kind enough to take care of me, and all I did was distort your intentions to fit, well, what I've expected of people by now. …So, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Alfred lifted up his hand to place it on Matthew's shoulder, gesturing everything was all right, but the boy flinched away from the movement. He was so sensitive to touch, like a fractured a wineglass, afraid he'd fall apart from the slightest of contact. Slowly, Al lowered his hand, watching the tension leave the boy's body.

"So…" Matthew mumbled, twiddling his thumbs beneath the counter, "um, last night, you know how I said I have a lot of people I can stay with? Well, that was a lie. I don't have anyone. I don't have anywhere to go."

"What about your parents?" Elizaveta asked him. "They must have been looking for you."

A silence passed over the room as Matthew gripped the denim of the jeans, struggling to control the sorrow relapsing in par with his memory. "…My mother…died f-four years ago in a c-car accident…A year later…he sold me to the ring to pay for his debt. I-I don't have any other relatives."

"…I-I'm so sorry," she apologized, feeling guilty that she brought it up. Alfred and Elizaveta exchanged glances as the boy stared down at the floor, thinking the same thing. Matthew couldn't even refer to the man as his father.

"I bet he's up in Canada, w-wasting away on booze a-and gambling. Well, let him. I don't care." Anger had crept into his still quiet voice, and his hands shook as they clutched the jeans tighter.

"You're Canadian?" Alfred was stunned by this information. Canada was pretty far from here. The closest point was probably seven hours away…by car.

"Yeah. He, he starting talking about heading down to the U.S. for summer vacation, and I thought, 'Hey, maybe things are going to change for the better. No more drunken shouting, no more gambling his bank account away.'

"We c-came down to New York City and…and I think he must have drugged me. I remember getting real tired and next thing I knew, I…I was th-there. And that's how it's been…for three y-years. But, I, I'm free! I'm free now!"

"Matthew," Alfred spoke with a serious tone, "don't tell me you walked all the way here."

"I, I did," was his answer. "Why? Where…where are we?"

"New Jersey," Elizaveta informed him.

"…We're only one state over?"

"God, how long were you walking?"

"A day, maybe? Maybe two. We stopped once in the night, and there was another day of walking, so at least two."

Alfred blinked, running over what he'd just heard in his mind. "Wait, did you say 'we'?"

"…Oh…I did." Once again, painful memories returned, but these ones, along with his emotion, were harder to suppress. "Right, we…we left the ring together. …Toris and I."

Once again trading glances with Elizaveta, Alfred questioned, "Where's Toris?"

Matthew's eyebrows furrowed as he thought hard, having trouble recalling what had happened. Finally, he rubbed his temple and answered, "I don't know. I remember it was night and the rain was coming down hard. I wasn't feeling well and Toris was supporting me as we walked along… All the sudden we started sprinting. I, I don't know why. Somehow, we got separated. Then I…fell down beside a dumpster…and woke up here. …Oh God, where is h-he?"

Elizaveta looked like she was pondering something before breaking the silence with, "Do you know how far you ran before you got to the dumpster?"

"N-Not that long. Why?"

"Well, if that's the same dumpster we found you at, then Toris has got to be somewhere in town."

His eyes lit up at the possibility. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty positive. It's not like he would run off without you, right?"

"No, no way. He wouldn't do that. We promised that we wouldn't leave without each other; that we'd escape and start life all over again. …But we were being chased…what if Iv- …what is he was chasing us? What if he caught Toris?! Oh my god, he'll be brutalized!"

"Wait; do you know where the ring is?"

"W-Well, if you took me back to the city, I'd be able to find it. Why?"

"If whoever runs it took Toris, we could just call the police! You could lead them, and hell, they could even bust the whole ring!"

"…No," Matthew declined, shaking his head sadly. "No, I can't. I can't."

"Yes you can."

"No, no, they won't help. They don't care."

"Sure they do! Would all those people that have been arrested if the police didn't care?"

"Do you have any idea how little those numbers are in comparison to how much trafficking there is? Minute, absolutely minute. They see us all as trash. We're just whores to them. They don't even bother with us unless we literally scream 'I've been forced into prostitution!' And even then, they might not care."

"That can't be true-"

"Alfred, you've never had officers breathing down your back, paying to do to you…what they promise to s-stop! You don't know Toris! He screamed to one…and was raped by the very person you reached out to for help! You weren't beaten and nearly ch-choked to death by him for trying to get help! …The police don't care, no matter how many laws they make to hinder trafficking. You can't trust them, you just can't."

"…I'm sorry," Alfred apologized. What was he doing, acting like he knew more about it than a victim himself? And how could he have expected Matthew to trust the police when he couldn't even trust him last night?

"God, Toris might be there…"

Al tried again to place a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. He flinched slightly, but let it stay there. "Until we know for sure, we should assume he's free. Chances are he's still here, okay?"

Matthew nodded, gripping the hand on his shoulder with his own, searching for solace. Blushing at the contact, he squeezed back when the boy did. Elizaveta noticed, and her breath was caught in her throat as she sipped her frappecino. They were just so cute together.

"Look," Alfred suggested, "why don't you stay here until we find him? He's bound to turn up around town if we look."

"A-Are you sure that's okay?"

"Hey, I can get my dad to do almost anything. Don't worry, I got this."

Tears slipped out of the corners of Matthew's eyes, but he was smiling, overcome with emotion. As long as there was a chance that Toris was out there, they could keep their promise and finally live again…together. "Thank you…thank you so much. I just, I can't accept this for free though. I know; I'll work here! I'll clean and stuff, whatever I can do to make up for my rent. I'll get started right now!" In his high spirits, he jumped up from his seat and grabbed a sponge from the sink to begin washing dishes. He looked over his shoulder at them and flashed an adorable smile. "Really, thank you so much. I promise I'll pay you back."

Alfred felt his heart beat faster…just as his sweats rose in a certain place. …He needed to leave the room for awhile and…calm down. Dammit, if he got up, it'd be so obvious; this was loose cotton fabric, not restrictive denim. What was he supposed to do?

As he contemplated so, he caught Elizaveta smirking at him, almost knowingly, and his blush darkened. He averted his eyes to the wall, trying to focus on anything else but the sound of Matthew humming some love song while he scrubbed away the filth on the dishes.

It was more difficult than he thought, so he drank the rest of his frappecino in silence. Maybe the ice and coffee mix would cool him down. Either way it was tasty…probably like Matthew's lips would be, or his tongue, or…why, why, why wasn't this working?