Hey guys! Welcome back to chapter 4 of Colours! I'm sorry it took so long to write this, I had a really bad case of writers block mixed with large amounts of school work and after school + before school rehearsals for my Drama exam...argh...

Anyways, thank you everyone who reviewed and put up with the waiting! Double thanks for everyone who suggested power ideas. There are a few that I have decided to use, but I'm not saying which ones, ahah.

Beta'd by Tainted Tuesday cause she is awesome and beta'd it in a day cause she's just so pro so that I would post this up quickly, so thank her for the faster update! =D

OH! One more thing, ArisaLyeanna wrote an awesome story based off of this one called 'Flower's Personalities' and I hear she is planning on writing another story based off of this one too! I'm really honoured so I'm pimping her out right here! xD Be sure to check out her stuff!

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN HETALIA. YEAH

Please enjoy and review! ^^

"Calm down and I'll explain everything."

There was faint mumbling and Matthew turned to see the Vargas brothers lying on the other couch. Feliciano had pulled Lovino onto his lap and positioned him so that his head was lying on his chest. He was whispering something rapidly into his older brother's ear who was struggling to keep his eyes open. Lovino was attempting to glare at Gilbert but in his tired state it just looked like a grimace.

"Bas…bastardo," Lovino panted at the Prussian, his eyelids flattering lamely. Feliciano looked worried and a little scared as he gently slapped his brother's face, trying to keep him awake.

"Just five more minutes. Five more…" He trailed off and began to speak again in rapid Italian, bringing the older male closer to his body.

Matthew eyes grew wide as he stared at the scene between the two. Was he the one who brought Lovino to this state? "Is…is he okay?"

"He's fine," Feliciano stated uncharacteristically bitterly and Matthew noticed with a small start that his colour was flickering between red and sea green.

Gilbert scratched his neck a little awkwardly as his eyes went from the near unconscious Italian to whatever else was in the room. "Hey…"

"Bastardo." Surprising, it was Feliciano who had said it to Gilbert this time. He narrowed his eyes at the other as he continued. "You know Lovino is vulnerable after he uses his ability! He wouldn't have enough energy to register Matteo!"

"I didn't know!" Gilbert shouted back, anger mixed with embarrassment in his eyes. "You know I can't remember every little thing about every person I freakin' meet!"

"This isn't little! The last time this happened he almost died! How can you forget?"

"You know the reason I could forget!"

Matthew sank deeper into the couch as the two continued to argue, growing more and more confused as it went on. Register him…? Just why did he need to be registered? And, registered to what?

Fear rose in his chest as, as silly as it was, he was reminded of those Saturday morning cartoons he used to watch when he was young. The ones where the naïve character with a dangerous power would be seduced by the bad guys with kind words and promises of answers. As stupid as he felt thinking this, were Gilbert and Feliciano the 'bad guys' and he the 'naïve' character? Were they trying to get him to join some kind of evil organization whose goal was to take over the world?

Yes, it sounded unrealistic, but he could see emotions in colours, Gilbert could find out about someone by touching them, and Lovino would heal people with what seemed like the power of his mind.

Honestly, if someone told Matthew right now that Harry Potter was a real person and Narnia existed, he would believe them.

He slowly rose to his feet, watching the two carefully to make sure they didn't notice him. Truthfully, he had had enough of this. He had went along with Gilbert to get answers, but he had yet to receive any and was afraid that if he were to stay any longer he would get roped into something he didn't want to be a part of. Luckily for Matthew, they were too into their argument to see the blond slowly inch his way out of the room.

"Hey, the cute kid's leavin'."

Matthew froze when he heard Lovino's slurred voice call him out and his face went a light pink. Really, why did everyone think he was cute? He's a boy! Maybe he should get a haircut…

"Matteo…"

"Hey Birdie, it's too soon to fly away."

Matthew turned to look at them but made no move to go back to his previous seat.

"What does it mean to be registered? And why were you trying to register me?" He cussed that his voice came out softer than he intended it to, but it still got his point across.

There was a pause before a look of mild horror crossed Feliciano's face as he understood. "Oh! Oh no, ve~! It isn't anything bad it's just when, um…" He turned to Gilbert for help, knowing that the Prussian knew more about it then he did.

Gilbert stood. "You see kid, when—" He took a step towards the Canadian which Matthew responded by taking a step back. Gilbert paused before he sat back down on the couch with a small frown. "…When two people with abilities who have never met before touch, they 'register' a bit of each other's…what did that guy call it… 'Chi' or unique energy or...whatever. It's how we pick each other out from the norms. But because everyone feels so different, a lot of people with abilities can't tell when they meet each other with just a touch. Well, I can 'cause I'm awesome but that's just me. You with me so far?"

Matthew nodded dumbly. Gilbert continued.

"But every once in a while we run into someone like you who rarely uses their ability and hasn't registered anyone else in a long time. This someone has next to no energy to spare and so when they do finally come in contact with a new person with abilities it's a huge shock."

"That's why you fainted, Matteo." Feliciano shifted Lovino onto his opposite shoulder, not seeming to care that he was now asleep. "I thought it might have been because you had an ability but I wasn't really sure…that's why I got your email from Alfredo and gave it to Gil. I hope you're not mad…"

Of course Alfred would do something like give out his email and not tell him about it. Matthew shook his head in Feliciano's direction. "It's fine…" He mumbled before looking towards Gilbert. "I…just…just how many of…us…are there?"

"A lot." Gilbert answered vaguely. "There has be at least…twenty in this area alone." He gave Matthew a curious look. "And you really haven't contacted any of them? Not even a run in on the street? That's weird…"

Matthew didn't notice Gilbert's ungloved hand twitch as he studied the Canadian. Truthfully, their distance bothered him; usually if he wanted to know something about anyone he would just touch them. Too bad he didn't also have super stretching abilities.

Matthew adjusted his glasses nervously under Gilberts stare. "I-I'm sorry, what's weird?"

"If you really didn't hang around anyone 'special' than you would've been out way longer than you were," Gilbert explained, cupping his chin with his hand in a thinking matter. "…Are you tired?"

"Eh? ...No…I'm fine…" How strange, last time he was pretty much dead, this time he felt indifferent. Why was that?

"…You probably are hanging around someone with abilities, kid. Someone you've already registered most likely, and don't even know it." He covered his mouth to hide his smile at the other's shocked face. "Hell, they probably don't even know it."

That perplexed Matthew. How could one not know they had abilities? Did they just think it was normal to be able to do all this weird stuff that no one else could?

"This must be very confusing…" Feliciano stated as he absentmindedly petted the top of Lovino's head. "There's actually a club where people with abilities come and meet up once a week or so. You should come."

Matthew turned to Feliciano. He felt a little strange asking but…"Do you have an ability too?"

Feliciano shook his head. "No, but I go to the club with Lovino and Gilbert all the time. It's really fun!"

Matthew slowly nodded, not really looking like he was paying attention. "I…I think I'll go home now." There was a short pause before he quickly added, "Thank you for the information." He turned to leave.

Gilbert stood up again and reached into his pocket for his keys. "I'll drive yo—"

"No!" Matthew answered thinking back to the Prussian's death trap of a car. He was amazed that thing wasn't considered a safety hazard. "I-I mean, I'll walk. I-I have to do something along the way an-anyways. Bu-but thank you."

And before the Prussian could protest Matthew was already gone. Gilbert let out a frustrated growl before flopping back down on the couch. "Kids…" He mumbled like the old seventeen year old he was.

/ / / \ \ \

The walk from the Vargas house to his own took about forty five minutes, too soon in Matthew's opinion. He had spent the whole walk pondering over the things that Gilbert and Feliciano had told him. He thought he should be happy, knowing that there were more people like him out in the world, but he didn't. He should feel more at ease with his questions answered but it only left him more confused. If there were more people like him in the world did that mean they could do these things for a reason?

Just why did they have these abilities?

Those thoughts dissolved into fear when he was just minutes away from his house. There was no doubt that the school called his parents about his act of violence, and he knew Alfred would be upset that he ditched him at lunch. He twiddled with the bottom of his shirt as he stepped up to the front door, a lump forming in his throat. He knew Papa trusted the Vargas' so maybe he should lie and say that he went to their house to fix up Gilbert. Well, that wasn't a complete lie, but maybe he shouldn't mention Gilbert. He didn't really seem like the most trustworthy guy. He sighed before he opened the door with a shaking hand. Though it wasn't entirely his fault that he was in this mess, he knew he would have to deal with it sooner or later.

Not a second passed between him opening the door and stepping inside before the familiar body of Alfred smashed into him and pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

"Mattie!" He wailed before burying his face into the others neck and Matthew realized with a start that Alfred was actually crying. It took a few moments to get over the shock of that fact before he started to pat Alfred's back awkwardly in an attempt to calm him down.

"Mon Dieu! Mathieu are you alright?" And cue concerned French father. Francis ignored Alfred and cupped Matthew's chin turning his face this way and that to get a proper look at him. After a thorough examination Francis released his son and breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah… Dieu merci…"

"Matthew? Matthew is that you?"

Matthew stiffened when he heard his other father's stern voice quickly followed by his equally stern face entering the scene. Matthew gulped and began to pick nervously at the fabric on Alfred's shirt. "Ah-ah… hel-hello Arthur…"

"Don't 'hello Arthur' me! Where were you? We were worried sick!"

Matthew opened his mouth to answer but Arthur wasn't done speaking.

"You skip school! You leave your brother to go God knows where! You know who called Matthew Williams Bonnefoy-Kirkland?"

Oh jeez full name.

"The principal! You punched someone? You have a record now young man! A BLOODY RECORD!"

"Wait just a moment Arthur," Francis placed a hand on the other's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. "There must be some kind of explanation, non? Just calm down…"

Arthur slapped away the hand and rounded on his husband. "'Calm down?' Francis! Your son just assaulted a peer!"

"Mathieu is a good boy! He would never do such a thing without some kind of circumstance!"

And there they go. For once, Matthew was actually glad that they chose arguing over him. Alfred sniffed and lifted himself off his brothers' shoulder, elegantly wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," Matthew quickly apologized, his head low. He figured that while his parents were occupied he better explain himself to Alfred. "I know we always walk home together but—"

"You know who I ran into on the way back? Roxie."

Matthew blinked, instantly recognizing the name. "You mean…your old girlfriend?"

Alfred nodded his seldom expression turning into a pout as he detached himself from Matthew and crossed his arms. "Yeah, the hoe that dumped me the day before my birthday and ran off with Adam."

Adam = Alfred's crush before he started dating Roxanne.

"Are they still togeth

together?"

"No," Alfred's sad expression returned and Matthew was afraid he would start crying again. "She's dating Emmett."

Emmett = Alfred's crush since grade school.

"Oh Alfred…" Matthew held out his arms and Alfred eagerly accepted the invitation. "That must have been awkward…"

"It was!" Alfred sobbed. "But Emmett still looked really hot today!"

Matthew rolled his eyes as he patted his brother's back. Now he could understand why Alfred was crying. When it came to relationships he was a total mess. He would even cry during the weird French soap operas their father watched, even if he had no idea what they were talking about. And whenever Alfred was faced with some kind of romantic crisis he would find Matthew and cry on his shoulder until either he fell asleep or decided to write nasty comments about them on Facebook.

"Mathieu."

Matthew looked up at his French father, who was now sporting a red slap mark on his face. If Matthew wasn't in trouble he would have found it amusing. "Come; let us move to the sitting room."

Matthew gulped and gently nudged Alfred out of the hug. "T-the sitting room?"

Francis nodded with a small sigh. "Oui. The sitting room. Now let's go, Arthur's already waiting."

Matthew gulped again as he groggily followed the Frenchman down the hall. The sitting room was the room that he was told not to go into when Alfred was getting punished. It was never him that was asked to go in while Alfred was told to go to his room.

Maybe meeting Gilbert was not a good idea.

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, Francis walking ahead of him to sit next to Arthur, though with some respectable distance between them. Arthur turned to his son with a sigh, annoyance lingering in his eyes.

"Sit."

Matthew immediately complied, sitting down quite rigidly on the couch opposite of his fathers, gaze on his lap. Though he had sat on this couch before, now it seemed like he had turned into a princess and there was a pea underneath the cushion.

"Matthew."

"Yes?" Matthew replied so softly that if the breeze coming from the window was blowing in the wrong direction Arthur would not have heard it.

"Matthew, look at me."

Matthew titled his head upward though was unable to match Arthur's glare. He tried, he really did, though was only able to look at him for a few seconds before felt forced to look away. Arthur figured that was the best he could get.

"Now Matthew, your father and I—"

"I'm sorry!" Mathew interrupted, sudden anxiety overcoming him. "I-I should have called, I know! Or at least told Alfred where I was going!"

"Mathieu its alrigh—"

"I-I mean! I have responsibilities and I completely disregarded them! I was being sel-selfish!"

"Calm down lad—"

"I've never done anything like this before! An-and I swear I'll never do it again I—"

"MATTHEW WE ARE NOT ANGRY!"

Matthew immediately stopped his talking; only now noticing that he had his knees pulled up to his stomach as if expecting one of them to leap forward and attack him.

"Re-really?" he asked, his voice reverting back to his soft nature as he placed his feet back on the ground.

"Yes, really." Francis reached forward and placed a hand on his knee, though retreated when he noticed Matthew flinch at the contact. "We talked to the principal and you're not getting punished. The boy that you…hit, apparently he did not want you to be in trouble and so you are only getting off with a warning."

Matthew blinked. Did…did Gilbert really do that for him? Even though he punched him in the eye? Wow, that was…really nice of him.

"Really?" Matthew questioned again, and Francis nodded. There was a second of hesitation before he turned to Arthur to confirm the story.

Arthur nodded before he sighed and rubbed his temple. Though Matthew was certainly the better behaved of the two, he was still difficult to handle in his own way. "Yes Matthew, even if I raised my voice before." Francis coughed awkwardly in his fist and Arthur sent him a glare. "…You are not getting punished. We are just…we're just a little worried lad…"

Matthew titled his head in confusion, an emotion he had experienced far too much today. "Worried?"

"Yes, well…are you…okay?"

There was a pause as the young blond tried to figure out just what the other was talking abo—wait. No, it wasn't about…

"I'm sorry, Arthur," He sunk lower into the couch as he spoke. This was just too much for one day; he really didn't want to talk about that as well. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You know, I think that's good enough," Francis said with small humour in his voice as he made to stand. "Mathieu, maybe you should go and do your homew—"

"I mean are you okay since the incident?"

Heavy silence filled the room as reluctantly Francis sat back down. Matthew felt the colour drain from his face as his hunch was confirmed. He glanced up at his parents to find then both staring back at him, one with concern and the other with…he couldn't even tell. He hugged his legs to his chest and buried his face into his knees.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"And that is okay," Francis made to reach out and comfort Matthew though thought better of it. He squeezed onto Arthur's hand instead. "We do not need to speak of it. We just need to know if this has something to do with—"

"It doesn't," Matthew stated bluntly, glancing at the door. "Can I go now? I have homework."

Francis and Arthur gave each other side ways glances. Arthur frowned as Francis shook his head and gave a small shrug.

Arthur sighed, "Yes, yes. Go do your homework."

Matthew quickly stood to leave.

"Mathieu."

Matthew turned back to his French father.

"I…we love you."

Matthew paused before he slowly nodded and left, leaving the married couple alone once again. Francis shifted his body so that he was facing his husband. "Artie…"

"Don't 'Artie' me!" Arthur snapped, tugging his hand out of Francis' grasp and standing up. "You know as well as I do that he needs to talk about what happened!"

"Well this is what Dr. John is for, non?"

"Dr. John, Dr. John. The therapist, Francis? That's your answer for everything!"

"No it is not! Are you criticizing the way I raise my son!"

"I'm saying that Matthew has a better relationship with the bloody therapist than he does with me!"

… …

Francis couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape him as he stood to be on the same ground as his partner. "Is that what this is about?"

Arthur didn't answer, what he did was turn his back to the blond and move to the other side of the room, his frown hidden from the Frenchman's view. "…It's been four years Francis, and I still feel I know nothing about him."

Francis frowned, glancing at the door where Matthew had just left before he started towards his husband. "I love you, Arthur, and Matthew does too," He wrapped his arms around Arthur's torso Arthur did not protest. "He is simply not as…forward with his affection as Alfred. It may take some getting used to."

Arthur hung in head in thought, holding onto the hands around his stomach for some comfort. "He has not called me 'dad' since we moved back to Canada."

"…Matthew loves you, Artie, and that is the truth." He placed a small kiss on the Englishman's neck before he retracted his arms. "I'm going to start dinner."

Arthur gave a curt nod and Francis left the room. Releasing a heavy sigh he went and flopped back down on the couch, his body suddenly feeling heavier than before.

Do not fret, Arthur, for your partner's words hold nothing but truth.

Arthur looked up at the small voice, his expression softening when he noticed whom it belonged to. "Ah, Florina, it has been a while."

Indeed it has, big one.

She flew down and rested on Arthur's shoulder, a small smile on her lips. Arthur returned the gesture with a small forced one of his own. "I suppose you heard all that."

Forgive me for dropping in on your affairs, but I did indeed hear everything.

"Yes of course," Arthur replied, dropping his head in his hands. The fairy flew up and patted his head in a comforting motion.

It is hard for a soul as pure as Matthew's to remain so white after everything he has been through. There is a spot in his heart for you. It is simply hard for him to admit it is there.

"…Yes, well I suppose you are right. You always are." He sat up straight and turned to his fairy companion, bowing his head. "Thank you for your advice, Princess Florina."

The fairy gave a low bow back.

It is the least I can do for a friend, Sir Arthur.

She giggled before there was a flash of blue and she was gone.

Translation:
Dieu Merci – French for Thank God. Thank you hello november for the French correction.

Hmmmm…I don't even really like this chapter, and I'm horrible at writing FRUK (even though it's one of my favourite pairings.-.) BUT it explains things, and that is what it needed to do.

Yeah that's right ENGLANDer ARTHUR HAS A POWER TOO. I want to say 'you didn't see that coming did you?' but I'm so bad with these things that most of you probably did .-.

Till next time, hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review!