"Where are you, you little bastard? Come on- aha!" Alfred grinned in triumph, holding up the dark plaster rock to the sky like it was the Holy Grail. Hands still covered in dirt from digging through the fresh soil of the front garden. A few moments later, the spare key fell into his palm. He unlocked, and opened the door carefully, as if worried the police were already inside, even though that was impossible. The only other key in existence to the place was in London with Arthur.

Once he decided it was safe enough, he entered, locked the door behind him, something Matt would've laughed at him for, (so what if bears can't open doors, locking it makes him feel better!) and flopped over on the slightly dusty couch in the living room.

'How long can I stay here?' He wondered, 'How long until they decide to check this place?' Not long, that was for sure. His brother was a cop, so they had pretty much everything they could possibly want on their entire shared life just by flicking open a file drawer, or a few clicks on their computers. Why did Mattie have to go and be a cop? Alfred could still see him the day he'd graduated from the academy, eyes alight, his entire being aglow.

With a low grunt, he pulled himself to his feet, and gravitated to the kitchen. He didn't suppose there was anything in the fridge…

"I freakin love you bro! Always thinking of me!" He cheered, flinging the door wide open to reveal its vast bounty. The Canadian had clearly just restocked it with anything a hungry Alfred could possibly want. The same went for the cupboards in the kitchen. Along with the neatly stacked boxes, was a thick envelope, which he opened eagerly.

Al, his brother had written in his careful hand. I figured this would be the first place you went to hide. I'm sorry that I couldn't be here to meet you, but the others are suspicious enough as it is. They've already had several shrinks to see me, and they haven't let me go out with the crew at all recently. I know they're just worried, but it gets pretty annoying.

Gilbert and the chief seem to know something the rest of us don't. I think they're planning on sending someone after you, solo to arouse less suspicion, but I'm not sure who. Just be careful, and don't take any unnecessary risks. I've called Arthur, and told him everything. He said he'd keep in touch, and that his home in London is always open for you

I'm going to prove your innocence too, Al. Somehow, we'll figure out who really did it, and framed you. Will thinks it's Carlos, you know? That creepy Cuban guy you used to hate?

Anyway, there's money in this envelope too. About five thousand in mixed currency. Be careful.

-Matt

Again, Alfred smiled, running a finger across the neat cursive, and then reached for the promised cash. Canadian dollars, Euros, and pounds. A little over a thousand in each.

About trying to prove his innocence? Well, he doubted that would ever happen. The court had pretty much decided that he was doomed to suffer, and wasn't about to release its stubborn grip on him any time soon. Not that he'd ever be able to tell his brother that. It would break his heart… and drive him insane. A quiet, passive sort of insane, which was about ten times scarier than if he snapped and shot up a subway or something.

Grabbing a can of Coors from the fridge, the American wandered around the cabin, deciding what he should clean off, and what he shouldn't be bothered with. There was no sense in making it obvious that he'd been living there to the cops if he didn't have to.

He walked into the bedroom that he and Mattie had shared for years. The ladder to the top had broken even before the twins were born, so Alfred had used a chair to scramble up for bed. Sometimes, when he'd been really tired, Arthur would have to lift him up.

"Arthur." He couldn't help but miss the Brit. An old college pal of his father's, who'd raised the boys after their parents had died. He'd been like a big brother to the two, home schooling them both up to high school, and teaching them both to hunt. A fine sport, he'd called it. Mattie loved the hunt itself, but usually ended up crying after killing the animal.

Al had never been able to enjoy it at all. The idea of killing something sent chills down his spine. How anyone had been able to think that he'd killed twenty people when he couldn't even shoot a rabbit, he'd never figure out.

Sighing at the memories, the blond raked a hand through his hair, wincing at how greasy it felt. He needed a shower. Now. Hopefully the water tank wasn't still frozen from the winter.

{}}{{}

"Cold! Holy fuck that's cold!" He shrieked, leaping out of the shower, panting heavily at the sudden 'attack'. Water shouldn't be allowed to be that cold.

Carefully, as if afraid it would somehow be even colder, he stuck a hand through the spray, sighing in relief, as it slowly turned lukewarm. He couldn't remember the last shower he'd had alone. Even though most of the other guys in prison weren't as creepy as he'd expected, (hell, some of them had been actually been pretty nice for burglars and murderers) but it was always an awkward experience for him. Privacy was a welcome change.

Within a few minutes, he was singing loudly, enjoying his newfound freedom. He'd been so tense for the past few days, but now he could relax. At least for three more days, until he'd be forced to move again, hopefully to London, where he'd be as good as free. Yes, that was a great plan if he'd ever thought of one. Hopefully Mattie could visit him on his vacation time.

Alfred's head snapped up as he realized the water was slowly cooling again. "Shit." He groaned, turning it off. He grabbed a thick white towel from the tall rack, and wrapped it loosely around his waist, looking for another one to dry his hair.

The old grandfather clock that somehow still worked, declared it to be 2 am, but if he remembered correctly, Arthur had set it to the time in London so that he could know when to call his brothers. So that meant it was really… Alfred wrinkled his nose in thought, 9 pm. Perfect, suppertime. He dug through the fridge again, wondering if burgers on the barbeque would attract animals. Bears were awake at this time.

But then again, burgers had to be done on the barbeque. None of that fry pan crap. So he'd just have to risk it.

{}}{{}

Vash glared out the windshield, as if being angry at the road could make it any shorter. He'd been driving all day, barely stopping to eat. He knew he'd have to be quick if he wanted Alfred killed before the week was out. Who knows where he'd go after awhile at the cabin? From what the report told him, Jones was smart, and probably had figured out that the police knew about the cabin. So he wouldn't stay there for long before making a break for it again.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by his cellphone ringing brightly. Vash was surprised that there was even cell coverage out here. He must've been close to a town or something. "Hello?"

"Vash?"

"Williams?" He asked, shocked to hear the man's wispy voice.

"Yes. Please Vash, please don't kill my brother."

"H-how the hell did you find out about that? Damnit! If Beilschmidt told you, even after swearing not to, I will choke that stupid bastard…"

"No, Gil didn't say a word. I knew they'd send someone after him, and you were the only one I didn't see this morning. Please, if you'd just talk to Al, you'd know he's innocent. You can't just kill someone without knowing."

"If it's so obvious that he was innocent, then why was he convicted?"

"Everyone is too scared of the real killer. No matter how much evidence pointed to him, they'd never dare to arrest him."

"Who is it then?"

"It- a –an –med -." The already soft voice scraped, and faded out as Vash left what little signal he'd had before.

"Damnit!" He snarled, whipping the phone away, and going back to staring at the road. God he was tired. The coffee he'd had a few hours back had worn off, leaving him even more exhausted then when he'd bought it.

He tried desperately to remain focussed on the road signs, looking out for the Finnish-sounding name he'd memorized before leaving.

There! That was the one! Soon, he'd be finished, and could just take a well-deserved nap, and then go home. At just the thought of a nap, Vash felt his eyelids grow heavy and droop. Yes, sleep sounded great right now. What little was left of his reasoning skills were all in one tiny voice in the back of his head, insisting that he not go to sleep. Just stay awake a little bit longer! It hissed. But the rest of him called for rest, and he was helpless to resist.

He didn't even wake up when he'd hit the tree.

{}}{{}

Al stopped comically mid-bite at the loud crash that sounded, not too far off from his cabin. A wild animal perhaps? No, it was too loud for that. Frowning, he grabbed the dark brown leather jacket from the coat hanger, and sprinted out the door, hoping the flashlight he carried still had working batteries. He flicked the switch, and was thrilled to see the blinding beam of light cut through the shadows.

He ran to the end of the dirt driveway, and saw the truck. A heavy black one, completely totalled by a massive oak tree with their cabin number nailed to it.

"Hello?" Alfred called hesitantly. "You okay dude?" He couldn't tell the gender of the driver, but it seemed like a guy-car. Carefully, he aimed the flashlight's beam at the cab, where he could see a flash of pale blond hair, smattered with blood. He panicked for an instant, thinking it was Mattie, But managed to calm himself with the thought that his brother had said he wouldn't be able to come.

Still, whoever this was, was out cold, and bleeding. He lifted himself into the battered truck, and groped around for the man's seatbelt, and then pulled him out, slinging a limp arm around his shoulder, and picking his way back to the cabin, pouting slightly.

"My burger's gonna be cold."

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Thanks for reading~!

Sorry for the lacking of dialogue in here. Al doesn't talk to himself very much.

Updates will be slower now; these are the only two chapters I wrote, so now I actually have to work.

Reviews make writing worth it!