"Sit still."

Arthur was trying some sort of spell again, but Mathew bore with it patiently. It wouldn't help, none of the others did, none of the things Alfred did either, but Mathew didn't say that. Alfred had done the same thing, tried desperately to fend off cruel reality. And Alfred had tried for months. It had only been a few weeks since Arthur had found out, Mathew could afford his oldest brother this much. After all, Mathew knew best of all how painful the thing he was asking of Arthur was. If it was him in their place, if it was Alfred, not him...

Mathew shuddered at the thought alone. If Alfred, his twin, died... If Mathew had to bring him back-

If Alfred came back like Mathew...

Mathew wasn't sure he would have the courage to fix things either.

The horror of the thought was only seconded by the relief it brought, the assurance that he could still feel those emotions. I'm not a monster, not yet. I'm still me. A shallow relief, but a relief all the same. The rage he felt more and more often barely contained, the bloodlust, even the growing apathy, that wasn't him. Mathew wanted to stay himself right until the end.

"How's that?"

Arthur must have finished the spell, he was looking at Mathew expectantly. Mathew started, and considered himself, inspecting his body like it might show physically.

"I don't know," He answered apologetically, "I don't feel different."

Arthur pursed his lips. "It might take time to kick in."

Mathew doubted that, but kept that thought to himself. Now that Arthur was here, his time was limited. And Mathew wanted to use that time for the best while he still could.

"Tell me how things have been, Artie. What have you been up to? Did you get that promotion at work? What about Francis? Are you still fighting?"

Arthur had been wierdly closed-off about his life since he first came, but Mathew was determined to pry the details out of him. He wanted to hear everything, to know how his brother was doing. He wanted to make sure they'd be okay when he was gone, for good this time.

Arthur looked uncomfortable. "Not exactly... It's complicated, you don't need to hear that right now, we can talk later."

It was always "later" with Arthur. Mathew pressed harder.

"Please, Artie?" Then, a small white lie, "I think hearing about you guys makes me feel more... Normal."

It wasn't true, if it was Mathew would have felt the effects long ago, Alfred talked a mile a minute and was incapable of keeping a secret to save his life. Mathew had heard the story of Alfred's entire life for the year Mathew was gone within a day of being back. But it was the right thing to say to get Arthur to talk. Arthur forgot his hesitance at the hope of a solution, and reluctantly spilt the beans.

"Well, I... after you... I took a break from work, to.. Take care of things." Arthur's voice quavered, but he bravely pushed on. "But next time, I'll get the promotion for sure. And Francis... He's been a real help while... While you were gone." He tried for a chuckle, but it felt hollow. "I might even say he's a friend, now."

Mathew has been worried about this, but wasn't surprised. It was normal, to take some time off to process grief, or for your work to fall a bit, in such a situation. In fact, Mathew would probably have been a little hurt, as ridiculous as it was, if his siblings hadn't grieved for him. At the very least, Arthur had handled it better than Alfred, who had coped with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, reckless decisions, and necromancy.

Alfred, returning from the errand Arthur had sent him on mostly to get him out of the way, cut in, startling both of them.

"Might? You guys are like, best friends! I think fighting is just their way of showing affection." Alfred confided to Mathew with a conspirital grin, and Arthur flushed.

"We are not-" The he caught sight of Mathew's expression, and choose not to continue arguing.

Mathew almost wanted to congratulate Arthur, he'd never thought his older brother would be able to make another friend! But he figured that wouldnt go well, and since his big brother finally was able to people properly, Mathew didn't want to ruin it by overreacting. Instead he tried for a smile and said sincerely, "That's great, Art."

Arthur, uncomfortable with the situation, chose to divert attention by telling another story much to animatedly, and Mathew felt something almost like comfort settle in his heavy heart.

Arthur would be fine, even if he left again. Now all Mathew needed to do was make sure Alfred would be too.