Ew. Another short chapter. I'm sorry for these. I'm still fighting off major writers block right now. I just don't feel my ability to right is good at all, you know? Please forgive me!

Anyway, I have a question for you all. Remember when I did that bonus in a chapter awhile back? Where I wrote about Lovino's life? I was wondering-

Would you all like a chapter like that next for Francis and Matthew?

Anywho, enjoy! Remember, reviews are loved.

"He told you not to eat the damn cupcakes."

Was that a voice? Alfred could hear himself groan, but nothing more. Was he sleeping? It didn't feel like a dream, and he was self conscious. Maybe it was one of those dreams he could control. If that were the truth he'd be having a dance party with cake right now though.

"Wake up kid. I don't have all day." The voice echoed again, convincing Alfred that this wasn't a dream. He couldn't feel his body though, his felt like he was floating.

"The shit should be working by now." The voice once again spoke. This time Alfred was beginning to hear it more clearly. The voice could be fully defined now and he recognized it, but...

All of a sudden a burning sensation erupted into his body. The darkness cleared as Alfred gasped and his eyes fluttered open. Wherever he was had way too many lights and they were all spinning around him. He immediately closed his eyes once again and buried his face into his hands. The pain was shooting out everywhere. It felt like someone was slashing at him with a belt from all angles. Something he was unfortunate enough to know the feeling of.

No, this was worse. It felt like it was coming from the inside. It wasn't just one spot either, his legs, arms, back, head, and everything was hurting. At the same time though, as fast as the pain had hit him, it was beginning to fade. Alfred wasn't sure how long it took until the sensation withered down into a small numb tingling.

"Fucking finally," Someone sighed nearby causing Alfred to open his eyes once again. Everything was a slight blur, but he could make out shapes. He hadn't seen this room before and he briefly wondered if he was still in his new home. The walls were a mix of pink and purple which was also odd. He made out the design on the walls to be cupcakes, of course. He trailed his eyes around and gazed at a strange bottle on the white bureau dresser in the corner of the room. It resembled "happy juice" and while the fear crept into his mind that he had been dragged back home by his mother it quickly diminished. No. Someone else drank that. He shifted around slightly and noted he was sitting on a recliner or something (probably also a certain red and white mixed color). He tore his eyes away and passed the king sized bed (also pink and purple, seriously these people had a color obsession) to finally look at who was speaking before.

By now his vision had all but cleared up, allowing him to see perfectly. Yes, he wasn't mistaken. That voice belonged to none other than Francis. However, Alfred couldn't think of any reason why he was in this room right now, with this weird tingling feeling and Francis.

"Man kid, I'm going to be honest, I thought you were dead. I'm glad you woke up." Francis was actually happy that Alfred woke up? "I wouldn't want to deal with a sad Oliver." Oh. Wait, why wouldn't he have woken up? What exactly happened before he passed out. Cupcakes. Something with cupcakes. Right! There was a party, a party for him. It was for his birthday, right? Then... Then he ate a cupcake. No, he ate five. Oliver told him not to. Afterwards everything went dark.

"Shit, you collapsed out of nowhere. Scared the shit out of everyone. Honestly I thought Oliver was going to pull out a knife and slash anyone in his way to get to you. You were covered in vomit and everything, it was hilarious!" Francis went on, shaking his head slowly.

What a great guy.

Alfred tried to block him out at this point, focusing on other things. Alfred gazed at Francis and noticed he was wearing a lavender dress shirt, but it looked stained and it had a few buttons popped off. Hold up.

Lavender. Lavender... Purple.

This room was pink and purple.

Was this room Oliver and Francis' room? That made sense.

"Hey are you listening you little shit?" Alfred blinked a few times before returning his attention to the older man. Actually, looking at him now Francis didn't look that much older. He looked younger than his mother even. How old was he?

"Y-Yes." Alfred dryly responded, making a face afterwards. His throat felt disgusting, like someone stuffed a mega sponge in there and sucked up everything he had to offer.

"Anyway, I'm sure you have a lot of questions, huh?" Francis stood up from the white wooden chair he was sitting on and offered a hand out to the boy. The little American bit his lower lip before reaching out and gripping the hand. Why did he even trust this man?

"I'll tell you in a moment. First let's make sure Oliver doesn't have a heart attack. He's been freaking out so badly he couldn't even tend to you himself. Unbelievable." Francis shook his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette. Alfred wrinkled his nose and looked away.

Once they were out of the room Alfred instantly heard a loud call of his name. "Alfred!" The red-head turned and stared as Matthew ran towards him, nearly pouncing him into an embrace. "Alfie, you stupid head! I told you not to eat the dumb cupcakes! I thought I lost my new brother! Who was I going to teach hockey to? You poo head! I can't lose anyone else!"

"Matthew, that's enough," Francis spoke once again while this time his voice was more stern. It sounded like a warning almost.

Matthew looked up from his new brother before nodding and squeezing Alfred closer. "Daddy is waiting for you, he's really sad." Before Matthew could retreat and run away Alfred caught the glimpse of something shiny in the other's eyes. Was he crying?

"Come on." Francis huffed and began walking faster, pulling the small boy along with him. This man had to learn to be patient!

They began descending the stairs where Alfred heard what seemed to be a faint muffled sob. The living room was now empty, scratch the normal items there like the couch and television. The table was clear of all food and treats which Alfred couldn't help but frown about. All those treats, gone! Oh this cruel world! All the people apparently left and outside the window the sky looked pitch black. How long was he knocked out? Why did he faint anyway? He hoped Francis would explain soon.

Francis dragged him past the the living room and into the kitchen, something Alfred again never really got a good look at. The walls and floor were patterned with pink and white (what a surprise) tiles. It was a fairly big kitchen, at least compared to the small room his mother claimed to be a kitchen back home. He flinched when he realized he used the word home. This was his home now, why couldn't his mind just forget that place already?

The sound of crying came closer as they both stopped by another door. This one seemed to lead to the back of the house. Wow, they had a backyard too? Alfred looked up at the other as Francis gestured to the door. "Oliver's out there, so hurry up. I don't want to hear his annoying crying anymore. He's such a big baby!" After that he walked away, finally lighting up the cigarette that was in his hand.

Alfred hesitated for just a moment before opening the door. The cold air slapped him a few times as he forced his feet to go forward. Goodness gracious it was windy tonight. He grunted and had to squint his eyes to actually look past the chaotic wind. He felt like he was in a cheesy movie. Then again without cable and a television that barely had any channels back ho- in the demon's house, all he really did do was watch cheesy movies. Pushing that thought away he finally saw the source of all the crying sitting on a swing. What didn't these people have, seriously?

With all the strength of his now six year old body, he pushed himself past the horrendous and chilly wind. When he finally stopped in front of the man he realized Oliver wasn't even looking up. He had his face buried into his hands. He didn't even witness Alfred's heroic journey getting here! Pity.

"Um," was all that came out of his mouth. Very smooth.

That was enough to catch the blond's attention though as he snapped his head up and stared at the boy with wide eyes. His whole face was red as tears streamed down his cheeks. His hair was all over in a thousand different directions. He truly looked like a mess, and this was coming from the Alfred.

"My baby! You're alright!" Oliver immediately hopped off the swing and scooped Alfred up into his arms. Alfred didn't resist, considering the distraught expression on Oliver's face just seconds ago, he didn't have the heart to. Young or not, he could tell when someone was upset. "Oh Alfred, I am so sorry! Please forgive me! I shouldn't have left you so close to those stupid cupcakes. I shouldn't have even had them out! I should have known better than to keep a little kid away from treats. I ruined your birthday party! I am so very sorry dear!"

Eventually Alfred just pressed a finger up to Oliver's lips, making him stop. This family really liked to talk a lot. It was a foreign thing to him. If anything he's heard more speaking here in this town than he has in his whole life already.

"I'm okay. I forgive you." Alfred croaked out, his throat still dry. Francis could have at least let him stop to get a glass of water along the way here.

"Really?" Oliver froze for a minute, staring at the small boy in disbelief before squeezing him into a tight hug. Alfred had to push his hands against the blond's chest in order for him to pull back. Alfred couldn't breathe! "Oh honey, I can't even explain how sorry I am for all of this."

"Um, Oliver. What happened?" The boy tilted his head to the side as Oliver placed him back down, only to kneel down himself. Oliver let out a long sigh as he wiped his eyes with his hand. He slid his fingers through his hair before trying to make it look decent. After fixing his small blue bow (the one thing that really stuck out from the rest of his pink clothing) he spoke.

"Oh sweetie, I'll leave that to Francis to tell you, I just don't have the heart or strength to do so. I will tell you one thing though, something I'm very sorry for." Oliver leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Alfred's forehead. The man placed both of his hands on the boy's shoulder and forced a smile to his face.

"You're not in a normal family."