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Alfred's previously calm blue eyes sharpened intensely, blossoming into a rather menacing, violent shade of red.

Arthur froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Alfred's hair was still golden, but his eyes had changed, and now the combo was rather unsettling.

But why had he become so angry as to almost change back at the sight of Francis? He had mentioned something about being lovers before, but...but that was ridiculous, they couldn't possibly have...

Jealousy.

And now Alfred's hair followed his heart, the gold fading to a dark, smothering black.

"What do you mean, you won't miss?" Arthur began unsurely, resisting the urge to take a step backwards.

Alfred's eyes narrowed. "I told you. I will kill him the next time he dares to look at you."

"Alfred!"

He knew he had to do something to eradicate this insecurity of Alfred's. It was as if it were gnawing at Arthur as much as it was at Alfred, and he had the feeling that Alfred could become dangerous and destructive were Arthur to leave questions unanswered.

Arthur took Alfred's hand suddenly. It was unbelievably cold. "Alfred. Come."

Alfred allowed Arthur to lead him to the living room again, sitting down on the couch next to Arthur.

He was beginning to suspect jealously was one of the factors that turned him demon in the first place. Insecurity. Rage. Anxiety. It was all there, a deadly, monstrous bouquet in Alfred's eyes.

All stemming from a love he didn't understand.

"Alfred. I need to admit something to you. But you have to promise you won't become angry."

"Angry? Hah." Alfred scoffed. "I'm past that right now, little lion."

"Alfred."

"..."

"Alfred."

"Fuck. I don't care. Just say it," he growled, his knee bobbing up and down impatiently.

Arthur sighed. "Before...before I met you, there was a time...when I was a teenager, I, um...I realized that I was different from everybody else."

Really? He'd never imagine he'd reveal one of the darkest parts of himself for anyone, least of all a demon. A very precious demon. Who he fell in love with.

He blushed as he thought about it. Everything he tried to repress for so long...

Then again, he had technically admitted his feelings not too long ago. He flushed as he recalled it, and he quickly tried to push away the memories.

Alfred looked at him curiously. "How so?"

"Well, I...while everyone else talked of marriage, of children, I...I preferred the company of my own gender," he finished, feeling his face grow redder and redder. "And I was...a bit of an oddity, as you can imagine. I got along well enough with girls, of course, but..."

"You wanted to fuck guys."

Arthur's eyes shot up to Alfred's amused ones. "Y-You don't have to put it like that!" Arthur spluttered, horribly embarrassed.

"Go on. You told me you loved me anyway; there's no point being shy about it," Alfred pointed out smugly, a sly smirk on his face.

Arthur seethed silently as he continued. "Shut up. A-Anyway, Francis, he was different as well - he cared for both genders, as it were. And we had known each other for a while. But we bickered often, and really, we never got along that well. But one day, he found out that I liked men, and he...he said that there was nothing wrong with that."

Alfred's gaze hardened.

"And I began to trust him with...that part of myself. And one night I was very, very drunk, and we...well, I started dating him for a couple of months after that night. But we broke it off quickly," Arthur said hurriedly. "We realized it wasn't real. We were both desperate. Drunk a lot of the time. And we realized we were better off as friends and/or enemies than as...well, lovers."

Although Arthur thought he had done a fine job of explaining, Alfred still clenched his jaw tightly, a frown on his face.

"Funny, because that's exactly what happened last time."

"Pardon?"

Alfred's gaze grew darker. "You and him. You were together before you met me. Damn it!" He punched the sofa angrily, and the force of the blast caused the sofa to rock a bit. "Why am I always second?"

So was the demon Alfred was beginning to recover his memories, then?

"Alfred."

Alfred seemed to sense the anger in Arthur's voice, and he quickly looked up at him.

Arthur stood up, his hands curled into fists.

"Alfred, I am not going to explain myself to you further. Be jealous all you want. You do not own me, and I am responsible for my own decisions. I chose to be weak when I chose to be with Francis."

Alfred's nostrils flared dangerously, and his eyes were ice as he stood up, inches away from Arthur.

"But I realized it was a mistake," Arthur continued, his voice unwavering. "Something I should never have done. But I am stronger for it."

He forced himself to smile at Alfred.

"And later, I realized how much of a fool I was. Because if I'd only waited..." he said, walking to Alfred and taking his hand.

I'd have realized that my true love was waiting right here, all along.

He blushed as he thought about it. All of the things that he wanted to say, all the things he couldn't. He cleared his throat, continuing, "I-I don't regret fooling around with Francis. I don't regret the pain and shame that I felt. Because it led me to you, the one that...that I...er...love. Truly."

Alfred's eyes widened.

Arthur's surprised expression mirrored Alfred's as Alfred suddenly transformed back again, but Alfred himself was unaware of it as he took Arthur's other hand in his own.

"I love you."

"Y-Yes, well, I gathered that," Arthur stuttered, trying not to blush more than he already was.

"You said I'm your true love."

"I-I don't recall..." He was red now, and he knew it.

"Damn it, Arthur," Alfred pouted. "You can't just take back what you just told me!"

"Told you what? When?" He straightened up. "I hope you took all of that in, because I will not be saying it again. In any way, shape, or form."

"Awww...I should have written it down."

"Thank goodness you didn't," Arthur muttered irritatedly, looking away.

"Can you say it again?" Alfred pleaded teasingly.

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. "Try me."

A knock on the door interrupted them again. Alfred's eyes narrowed.

It couldn't be Francis. Arthur warily made his way over to the door, and he gasped as he looked through the hole.

Gilbert.

"Gilbert, are you all right? Good God, man, what happened to you?"

His clothes were torn and tattered, and his visible skin was sprinkled with bruises and cuts. His face was much paler than normal, and his eyes seemed tired and unfocused. His silver hair was unkempt, and patches of it seemed to be missing in some places.

"Gil, you're...alive," Alfred murmured in a low voice, and Arthur hadn't noticed him transform back to his demon state. Arthur looked at him in surprise as he continued. "You're here. You're alive."

"Barely, Al," Gilbert managed with a crooked grin, wincing. "Lemme in."

Arthur hurriedly led him to the couch, where he sat down with a groan.

"What happened? How did you survive?"

"Didn't. Not at first. Turns out we went through a portal. One-way ticket to Hell, no stops included."

"S-So...you went back?"

"Yep. And Liz risked her life to get me back here. In fact..." Gilbert frowned. "That was the best prison break. Like, ever. I don't know how that crazy bitch managed to rally them all to save my ass, but hot damn. Oh yeah. Roddy says hi."

Alfred's eyes narrowed. "He came back?"

"Yeah, something about you guys trapping him. Nice work, by the way. Helped me escape too. And they'll be here in like, 5 minutes, so we need to get a move on." Gilbert stared at Arthur. "You get it by now, right?"

Arthur nodded. "I explained to Alfred as well. The changes are becoming more frequent, and sometimes he doesn't notice when he changes."

"What?"

"Shush, Alfred!" Arthur and Gilbert said in unison.

Alfred growled at them.

"You?" Gilbert demanded suddenly. "Do you remember anything?"

"Alfred doesn't seem to want to tell me what happened. But no. I don't remember anything at all."

"Shit," Gilbert cursed. "Okay, whatever. That shouldn't matter too much," he murmured to himself, frowning. "Okay. Great. Art, you know what you're doing."

"Hardly."

Gilbert laughed. "Yeah, you do. Shit, I'm so glad it was you and not some pushover this whole thing depended upon. Okay. Yeah."

"Gilbert, can you please explain what's happening? You seem to know a lot more than both of us."

Gilbert's eyes darkened. "No. I don't know anything."

"Clearly you do, Gilbert."

"I..." Gilbert stopped. "I can't tell you. Unless you want things to be more screwed up."

How on earth could it get any worse?

"Gilbert, if you'd just tell us, this whole process could be expedited -"

"You have to figure it out. It's like...think of it as a test," Gilbert said, grinning. "Yeah. A test. I'm the one who caused this mess. Now you guys have to piece it back together." Suddenly, his eyes looked unfocused as he peered at Arthur.

"Hey. You have a run in with an angel lately?"

Arthur froze, frowning. "What?"

"Uh...nothing," Gilbert said, shaking his head. "It's probably nothing. Hmm. Anything weird happen to you lately?"

The dreams flashed in his mind, but he knew that couldn't be significant. Dreams were dreams, after all. "My whole life has been weird lately," Arthur scoffed.

Gilbert laughed. "Still got it, Art. You still got it."

"So what do you expect us to do now?"

"What I expect you to do," Gilbert said, turning on Arthur, "Is to survive. And protect this dumbass over here. And what I expect Al to do is stop bitching about dumb shit and get his act together."

Alfred growled at him again. "What the fuck, Gil?"

"I meant it," Gil said, his voice wavering slightly. He coughed. "Anyway. Art's the prince, you're the princess, so get your shit together and move it because Roddy's gonna - oh, fuck."

Arthur barely had time to blink before the door burst open and people - no, demons - began to pour into the room.

"Al. This is the point where you start running," Gilbert hissed, his eyes suddenly glowing red.

Alfred growled, instead positioning himself between the demons and Arthur.

Soon enough, Roderich casually walked into the room, a shorter, blond male demon next to him.

"Lieutenant. I trust you know your target."

"I can see him from miles away. Smell him," the smaller man replied, his green eyes harsh and unforgiving.

Arthur gulped. He turned to Alfred, who seemed, as strong as he was, undeniably outnumbered.

Alfred suddenly turned to Arthur, a sad, conflicted expression on his face.

And Arthur understood.

Alfred didn't want to leave him, but he doubted Alfred could get them both out safely.

And Alfred would never leave without Arthur.

He shut his eyes, thinking.

And suddenly, he had an idea. A far-fetched one, at that. It probably wouldn't even work. But it was worth a shot.

Arthur suddenly tapped Alfred and flashed two of his fingers at him. Alfred's eyes widened in surprise, and he nodded, a small smirk on his face.

"Got it."

"Any last words, traitor?" Roderich asked, his eyes cold. "Because you won't be escaping again."

"Awww...Roddy baby, say my name," Gilbert cooed condescendingly. "You know you want to."

Roderich shuddered in disgust. "Take him, Vash."

The shorter man, the Lieutenant, shot forward suddenly, barreling Gilbert in the stomach. The last Arthur saw of him was Gilbert crouched over, coughing up blood, before Arthur ran out of the room towards his own.

Some of the demons had followed him, and Arthur quickly shut the door to his room, adrenaline surging through his body.

Where is it...where is it...

He rifled through his drawers and nightstand, searching for the stone as he heard harsh pounding on the door.

The stone. The last remnant of his childhood dreams, his interest in the supernatural, everything that everyone had beaten out of him - he had kept one last thing, the stone his brothers had told him was just a rock, the stone he had spent his childhood wishing was magic...

The stone that he had wanted to protect him way back then, that he hoped would turn into something that would beat back his enemies, until he grew jaded and realized that nothing at all was ever going to protect him.

So he had to protect himself. But there was something about that stone...

Something that just seemed different.

But he knew he couldn't wish for big things.

All he could wish for was luck.

That was why he had never used it. Until now. Until this moment, when Alfred was going to be taken away, when everyone, everything he had lived for was about to be destroyed - now was the only time to use it. That was probably why it randomly resurfaced from his memories, the small, insignificant rock that seemed to promise nothing...

It was all he had.

He still wasn't sure if it was an ordinary rock used as a placebo or an actual magical or supernatural artifact - either way, he had to try.

Drawing out a dagger from his nightstand, he quickly slashed his arm, barely wincing as he pressed his finger to it, drawing a circle, a star, and symbols on his door. He quickly coated the stone in his blood and jammed it into the door.

Was it just him, or did it begin to glow?

Even if the stone didn't work, the circle surely would. No harm done in an extra touch of possible magic.

It was confidence he needed. And luck. An unbelievable amount of dumb luck.

Arthur quickly pressed his two palms to it, counting to three.

And then he let out a breath.

And all went black.

"...right...um...Are you all right?"

Arthur slowly opened his eyes.

Everything hurt. He squinted. He must be outside. He found himself looking up at the sky, and he seemed to be under a tree.

He sat up slowly, groaning. He turned to the person on his side.

"Alfred...?"

No...Arthur tried to focus, and he realized that the person to his right was a stranger. He sort of resembled the human Alfred, although his hair was longer, lighter, and more wavy. He had a long curl, similar to Alfred's cowlick, but his eyes were softer, kinder, less boisterous than Alfred's were. They were a beautiful violet hue, and while the stranger had unusually pale skin, it seemed natural.

"Oh, you're awake..." His voice was soft, reassuring, like running through clouds. "You must be...Arthur, right?"

"Oh...I apologize. I mistook you for someone else. And yes...how do you know my name?" Arthur inquired, peering at the man.

"Oh..." The man chuckled. "I've known you from...before."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. Before as in...his previous life?

"Who are you?"

"..." The man paused. "My name is Matthew. But you can call me whatever you want." He smiled, and Arthur suddenly felt his heart calm down, and he unconsciously let out a sigh.

For some reason, it was impossible to be worried or stressed around Matthew. He seemed to have some sort of calming aura about him.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't..." Arthur frowned. "Where am I?"

"Oh, you...silly me," Matthew chided himself. "You cast that spell, remember?"

Arthur's eyes widened. "Oh, no..." How could he have been so stupid? Even if Alfred wasn't a full demon, he was still at least part demon...of course the spell would have affected him too.

He cursed under his breath, berating himself for his stupidity, and then he looked up at Matthew and stuttered an apology.

Still, how could he have overlooked such a simple fact? It was almost as if he believed Alfred to be human in his mind.

Matthew smiled kindly. "Don't worry about it. I wanted to talk to you, though. That's why I brought you here."

Matthew straightened up, adjusting his coat before he said, "You know, Arthur, people make a lot of...decisions, in their lives."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Of course, that sounds silly when I tell you that...but people make a lot of bad decisions. Good and bad. The problem is that people don't see clearly." Matthew's eyes trailed around the park, until his eyes stopped, fixed at a certain point to Arthur's right. "If you're angry, and you see a trash can...you might feel like the best thing to do is kick it. But if you're in a good mood and see a trash can...you would probably think that the best thing to do is leave it alone. Why would you hit an inanimate object?"

Arthur followed his gaze to the nearby trash bin and smiled slightly. "I suppose so."

Matthew smiled, continuing. "So...so really, I wonder if people can be defined by their decisions. Their actions. Does it matter how a person feels, how a person thinks, or what a person does, that matters in the end? How should people be judged?"

Matthew paused, gazing at Arthur.

"I don't think that there's a correct answer," Matthew continued, his voice calm. Sincere. "Because people are so complex, so wonderful if given the chance..."

Arthur tilted his head, curiously listening.

"But they can be horrible. Nasty. Vicious. In this world...in this universe...in any world, anybody can do anything." Matthew's eyes fell suddenly. "And the kindest people can become the worst victims. The victors can become the losers in seconds. The nastiest individual can become magnanimous..."

Alfred. All Arthur could think about was Alfred.

"If given the chance," Matthew finished, a small smile on his face. "So I wonder...why people feel that everything is so definite. Why they judge harshly, why they hate, why they take things for granted, when really..." Matthew reached down for the dirt, grabbing a fistful as gently as possible before letting it run through his fingers. "Time goes by so fast, the days go by so quickly, lives overlap and become one motion towards the end of days..."

He met Arthur's eyes then, and Arthur couldn't break his gaze away. "You understand, don't you?" He leaned forward slowly, resting his palm gently on Arthur's chest, above his heart.

His violet eyes grew sorrowful then, and Arthur frowned slightly. "So much pain," he whispered. "It's all repressed. That's why you won't remember. Why you can't remember. It wasn't you who was punished this time...but I suppose, in a way, you were." Matthew shook his head sadly.

He stood up, taking Arthur's hand and helping him up as well. "This was not meant to happen." For the first time, Matthew frowned, and Arthur's eyes widened at how...how wrong that expression looked on his face. "None of this...was meant to happen. But I will do what I can for you, Arthur. Because you are strong. You are not alone." His eyes were bright as he smiled. "You understand, right?"

"What...?"

And suddenly, he was gone, leaving only a white feather in Arthur's palm.