Author's Note: I'm cranking stuff out for this story at this point. I want it to be over, not because I don't enjoy it, but because I love the ending so much. This may have been my favorite story to work on. Oh, how I love my snarky Alfred. You guys are hilarious though. You reacted so badly to what he did, and I was so grateful for that. Alfred felt as if he was in the right, but he really wasn't. He threw a fucking temper tantrum, simple as that.

Two more chapters to go!

Days went by.

Alfred didn't finish his rehab sessions and his parents didn't make him. He mostly stayed in his room, ignoring Elizabeta's phone calls and Kiku's Skype ones, didn't want them to see how bad it had gotten, how thoroughly he'd messed up.

And everything was just that: a mess. Alfred couldn't focus on anything and didn't want to. Frankly, he was so ashamed of how badly he'd overreacted and refused to face anybody who knew about it. He knew he'd fucked up, but he'd already decided he wasn't going to do anything about it.

He and Arthur were both better off without one another. They were at different stages in their lives, had different priorities, and Alfred was tired of working himself up into a frenzy over it. He was going to take the hateful words he'd spewed at Arthur and follow them himself, try to forget about everything and move on with his life.

It wasn't going to be easy, but Alfred had no other choice but to try.

Alfred was drifting in and out of sleep when he heard his bedroom door creaking open. It was about three in the afternoon, and he burrowed further into his comforter, screwing his eyes shut, as if that would make him disappear completely. His mattress dipped as someone sat down, and Alfred realized that his visitor – whoever it was – wasn't going to leave him be.

"What?" He asked, loud enough to be heard underneath the covers. He hadn't spoken in a while.

"Can I talk with you for a minute?"

Alfred relaxed somewhat. His dad had always been easier to be around. Not to mention that he'd yet to face his mom since he went off on her. "I'd prefer if you didn't, but I doubt that'll stop you."

"Did I ever tell you about what happened to my soul mate?"

That caught Alfred's attention, though he was surprised his dad was just diving straight into the deep stuff. Slowly, so as not to seem too interested, he peaked his head out of the covers and peered over at his dad's blurry form. The policeman's expression changed slightly when Alfred revealed himself, and Alfred could only imagine how awful he looked.

He didn't answer his father's question. They both knew they'd never dared to discuss that before.

"Well," his dad began, tearing his gaze away from Alfred to stare at the wall near the door instead, "I don't remember this at all, but when I was six months old, my watch just… stopped."

Alfred blinked. Watches didn't just stop working. Until they fell off, they were like organs, working of their own accord so long as the people they were attached to were still alive. Of course, if one half of a pair were to die, then… "Oh, Dad – "

"I still had thirty four years left on it. Your grandma told me that she was giving me a bath and noticed that it had been stuck on the same series of numbers for more than ten minutes. The next morning, it fell off completely."

Alfred couldn't believe what he was hearing. There was a show that aired on the OWN Network that Kiku used to watch with his mom on Sundays. Each week, the show followed the story of a guest whose watch had suddenly stopped working one day. It was about trying to find out who the person's soul mate had been, if they could learn how they'd died.

It was exceedingly difficult to match soul mates who had never met, especially when one or the other was dead, but it did happen. Some people just couldn't move on after something that traumatic, and Alfred had respected that before, though he didn't understand; and now he knew that his dad was one of those people.

"I don't know what happened to them." His dad went on, his tone thoughtful. He didn't sound sad. He'd had years to come to terms with it. "I was so young when my watch stopped working. For all I know, their pregnancy could've been terminated, they were stillborn, had an accident… anything could've happened to them."

"Why are you telling me this?" Alfred asked quietly, still propped up awkwardly on one elbow.

"I was the only kid whose soul mate had died so young." His dad went on, as if Alfred hadn't spoken at all. "The guys were always so careful around me, as if I'd been damned to a future of loneliness. I think I resented the clocks almost as much as you did when I was growing up. I didn't think it was fair for me to be set up with someone who passed away before either of us had a chance to live."

Alfred had an idea as to where everything was headed. He still didn't know why or how his parents had gotten together, why Jordan Williams apparently wasn't a suitable husband or soul mate, but he knew that he was about to find out.

"One day," this was reminiscent of the days when his dad would tell Alfred stories before he left for his night shift, before he'd become Police Chief, "I went out with a group of friends after our shifts ended down at the station. We went to this small diner a few blocks away, and that was where I met your mother.

"She looked so tired." Alfred noticed a newfound tension in his dad's arm muscles. "She was one of three waitresses working that night, and she was running around making sure everything was running smoothly. Even then she was gorgeous. I know you don't believe in this stuff, but it really was love at first sight for me."

"I believe you." Alfred replied.

"I was completely smitten after only ten minutes. I kept going back every night after work. To make matters worse, she had a wedding ring, so I knew she'd found her soul mate and that I had no right to pursue her. Believe you me, Al, it was torture."

Most people would probably smile at that point. Listening to the story of how your parents fell in love was supposed to be a good thing – slightly weird, but good. Alfred just wasn't feeling it. He didn't think he was capable of smiling at that point.

"But nearly a month later, I noticed your mom wasn't wearing her ring. I asked her about it when she came to take my order, and the look she gave me was… well, she couldn't believe a police officer was asking her about her marital status. I won't bore you with the details, because there is a reason I'm telling you all of this, but she and I continued to grow closer until she felt comfortable enough to tell me what her married life was like."

"Was Jordan abusive?" Alfred asked. His mom wasn't exactly his favorite person, but he hoped to God that no one had ever laid a hand on her; or Matthew.

"No, not at all." His dad said. "Believe me, if he'd even looked at Caroline in a way that made her uncomfortable, I would've locked him up personally. No, the two of them just had… certain expectations that weren't met. As soul mates, they both thought everything was going to be clean-cut and perfect from the get-go, but it wasn't. They argued too much to be healthy."

"That's what Matt said." Alfred murmured, thinking back to his last conversation with his brother before he'd left. He hadn't been answering Matthew's phone calls either. "How does that work? Aren't soul mates supposed to be perfect for one another?"

"Soul mates still argue, Alfred." He gave Alfred a pointed look as he said it, and the teenager's cheeks burned with shame. "Your mom and Jordan grew to resent one another over time. They married soon after they met and had Matthew almost a year after. It was just too much too soon, for the both of them. Jordan wanted an out just as much as your mother did."

That was just… beyond confusing, but also strangely enlightening. Alfred didn't know anyone – aside from himself – that willingly chose to separate from his or her soul mate. All this time, Alfred had been convinced that either Jordan or his mom had done something, cheated or snapped and ruined their marriage, but to hear that it hadn't been like that at all?

"There was a moment of weakness." His dad sighed. "We'd known one another for almost a year, and while your mother had come to love me, neither of us wanted to do anything while she was still married to Jordan. But one thing led to another, and – "

"I get it." Alfred said quickly, lifting a hand to gesture for his dad to stop talking.

"We loved each other, but neither of us was proud of how we'd decided to come together." He turned his head to look at Alfred again, and the young teen was mystified to find that his dad's eyes were slightly wet. "You were born because of it though, so I'll never regret it."

Alfred squirmed slightly, didn't know what to say. He wasn't affectionate with his parents and they in turn weren't all that affectionate with him. He'd never doubted that they loved him, but he knew he was a handful, to put it lightly. It hadn't always been that way, of course, but Alfred doubted his parents enjoyed looking back and remembering how easy of a child he'd once been.

"Didn't you guys use a condom or something?" Alfred asked, not as embarrassed as he thought he would be.

"Like I said. One thing led to another. We weren't exactly prepared." His dad chuckled, and Alfred wondered if his mom had mentioned the whole 'I've slept with half the goddamn city' thing. "But your mom didn't say anything to Jordan until she was certain she was pregnant. They both agreed that separating was a wise decision."

"Under what grounds?"

"Irreconcilable differences, I believe. Jordan never brought up a case of adultery. The whole thing was done quietly."

This was crazy. Jordan had just let his soul mate go without a fight? Had they really been that unhappy?

The knot that had formed in Alfred's stomach after Arthur left twisted with quiet agony. All these years and he'd been blaming both of his parents for the way his life turned out; but he hadn't known the whole story. His dad had lost his soul mate just six months into his life, and his mom had parted from hers on no uncertain terms with both parties in agreement.

Alfred had been convinced his birth was the reason everything had fallen apart. He'd thought everyone blamed him. His conception had helped the process along, sure, but it hadn't caused the separation. Even without him, it would've happened eventually.

"Matt said – " Alfred hesitated, thinking back to that day, the contempt in his older brother's eyes, his sneer. "He said it was my fault."

"It wasn't, Alfred. Your mother never talked with Matthew about how unhappy she and Jordan were until he was much older. That was a mistake on her part, mine as well, but we never imagined… " He trailed off, sighing to himself. "We never imagined the effect it would have on you."

"Hm. No kidding."

"I'm sorry for… making you feel like you had no choice in the matter." His dad went on to say. "After the restaurant, I told your mom it would be best to back off a little, but she's stubborn. You may not be able to see this now, but we only want what's best for you. I spent most of my life thinking that I would always be alone. I never imagined I'd find someone like your mother in this place. From the very start, I didn't want that for you.

"And then your mom… " Alfred was tired of crying, but he couldn't stop. He'd been so cruel to everyone. "Well, she just wants to make sure everything goes smoothly. She knows how it feels when hearts change, when plans go awry. She wants you to have the ultimate happiness she couldn't attain for herself."

His parents were unfathomably strong people. How did his dad live knowing that he was second-rate, that no matter how much they grew to love one another, Alfred's mom's heart would be forever divided? And then there was his mom. He wouldn't be surprised if she sometimes wondered what would have happened had her second husband's soul mate lived.

Alfred had been defying the system all this time, and yet the prime example of choosing ones own fate even when presented with predetermined perfection was right in front of him all along.

"I ruined everything, Dad." Alfred said, feeling wretched. "God, what is wrong with me?"

"You're a spoiled brat, for starters." His dad said with a slight snort, and Alfred had nothing to say to the contrary. "I'm partially to blame for that. After you changed, your mother and I felt too guilty to discipline you correctly. We let you get away with far too much for far too long. I hope you know that stops soon."

"I figured."

"And we need to address the fact that apparently you're no longer a virgin."

"About that – "

"I don't want to hear it." His dad said, shaking his head and lifting both his hands in an almost pleading gesture. "I can't promise I won't walk out of here with an address book and handcuffs. At least tell me they were all legal."

" ... "

"Consensual?"

"Well, duh, you taught me how to kick someone's ass when I was, like, ten. If I didn't want it, it wasn't happening. And since we're being honest, I feel the need to say that I usually topped."

Alfred noticed his dad's wince, and he almost felt like laughing, but it passed quickly. If his secret was compromised, he'd at least have some fun with it while he could.

"We love you, you know." His dad said eventually, reaching over to pat the lump underneath the sheets that was Alfred's leg before standing up. "I just wanted to give you some insight on a few things. I don't like seeing you this down, Alfred."

"I love you guys, too. And I know you don't." Alfred replied quietly, sitting up and reaching for his glasses on his nightstand. There was too much on his mind, so there was no use trying to go back to sleep. "It's just been… a rough week."

"I think you need to apologize to your mother whenever you feel like coming downstairs. She told me that she didn't call Arthur, he came here on his own."

Alfred blinked, staring over at his dad's form in the doorway, clear now that he was wearing his glasses. "He did?"

The policeman nodded. "He said there was something he wanted to tell you. When your mom said you were at the airport, he was just going to leave, but she told him to stay and wait until you got back."

"So… she didn't tell him why I hated the watches?"

"She told him that Matthew used to isolate you and that's why you were so hesitant about opening up to people. But no, you let that cat out of the bag on your own."

His dad left immediately after, shutting the door quietly behind him. If Alfred hadn't felt like a fucking scumbag before, then he really did now. That certainly explained that look Arthur had given him, as if Alfred was a wounded animal. He knew how much Matthew meant to Alfred, and the idea that Matthew had once abused that devotion had probably spiked a piteous reaction.

Alfred groaned, flopping back down on his pillows. His dad was right. Alfred may have thought that he was mature, above it all, but he was really just a spoiled brat. What he'd done after he and Elizabeta returned from the airport was nothing short of a temper-tantrum. Distrustful of his mother after all she'd pulled, he jumped to conclusions and ruined a good thing that had serious potential to turn into something wonderful.

How had his dad managed, losing his soul mate like that? Alfred couldn't even imagine how that would've felt. Even if he'd hated the stupid thing, as a freshman in high school, if his watch had suddenly stopped working… if Arthur had…

Alfred missed Arthur. On top of losing Matthew and Kiku, it was nearly unbearable. His brother and best friend were miles away, but Arthur was in the same city. He was attainable. If only Alfred hadn't screwed it all up.

But he had to wonder… what had Arthur wanted to tell him? It must have been important if he'd risked the possibility of coming over without calling Alfred first to make sure he was home. Maybe it had been a spur of the moment type of thing.

The urge to call Arthur was so strong Alfred had to roll over onto his side, turning his back on the device he'd spent the past few days ignoring. He'd never felt such an intense need just to hear someone's voice before. Alfred sniffed, pushing his glasses up slightly to wipe at the fresh tears welling in his eyes.

He was fucking pathetic. Juvenile and pathetic in every way; but he wasn't stupid. He knew what was happening to him, had known the moment he saw Arthur's car pulling out of his driveway.

It had taken a while, but what Alfred was feeling… it wasn't stupid, as he'd always believed. It wasn't unrealistic, it wasn't fake, and it wasn't even a waste of his time; but damn, did it hurt.

He felt sick to his stomach because he was in love, and he'd won and lost it through no fault but his own.

Alfred F. Jones was fucking heartbroken. If only the dick-bags he'd fought with at school could see him now. Alfred portrayed himself as hard, but faced with anything emotional, he was a downright mess. Everyone would just laugh it up.

Alfred frowned, kicking away his comforter on impulse. He sat up, maneuvering himself until he could crawl over to the edge of the bed and slide off it. His trashcan was almost overflowing, untouched for weeks, and Alfred stooped over to pick it up and tip it over.

Its contents fell to the ground – mostly empty Gatorade bottles and bags of chips, the occasional soiled tissue – and Alfred fell to his knees, sorting through the pile diligently until he found his watch.

He hadn't thought about it in weeks, but as he turned the stupid thing over in his hands, Alfred couldn't believe he'd left it to rot for so long. As he stared at it, he remembered his exchange with Matthew and Kiku, his conversation with Arthur the morning everything went wrong.

He'd made a silent promise to Matthew to get his life back on track, to move on from the bad feelings their mixed blood had created.

Kiku had told him not to do anything stupid, to smile as he used to – essentially, to get back to the way he'd been before.

And Arthur had told him to love while he still could, to remember and wait for those he cared about, because no matter what, they would return.

Arthur was everything Alfred had wanted and needed for far too long, and it was laughable that it had taken Alfred so long to realize that. Arthur could take a joke. He was hard-working, empathetic, kind, and he was pretty damn gorgeous; but that wasn't even the best part. Arthur had zero tolerance for Alfred's bullshit. If that wasn't a sign that he was a keeper, then nothing was.

He didn't know how much damage his outburst had truly done, but he wasn't going to allow Arthur's watch to be thrown away as his had been, at least not without a fight.

The blue-eyed teen stood up straight, invigorated for the first time in days. Having spent most of his time in bed, wallowing in self-pity, he was going to have to shower; and shave, brush his teeth, find clean clothes (God, why did social interaction require so much effort?), apologize to his mom, and ask for permission to leave.

It was time to face the music.