Carlos almost fights Alfred as soon as he sees Mathew's red-rimmed eyes and Alfred's tight face, and Mathew has to step in.
"Whatever you're thinking, it's not it!" He tries to soothe his hot-headed friend, glaring at Alfred. "I was upset earlier and then I ran into Al, okay?"
Carlos doesn't look like he buys it but seems to decide that what Mathew was saying was more important than punching his twin in the face and settles down reluctantly into a booth.
"What's up?"
Carlos's way to ask what upset Mathew, and how he can help. If only Mathew had an answer. Mathew responds with a vague shrug, that anyone else would probably not accept, but Carlos isn't anyone, and he knows Mathew's signals well enough. He sits back against the bench back as though he's forgotten, but Mathew knows he's just biding his time until he can corner Mathew alone to pursue the questioning.
For a second Mathew freezes, calculating the best seating arrangement. Usually, he'd just sit across from Carlos, but now Alfred was a variable to be added in. Ideally, Mathew would like to have Alfred on the outside so that when Alfred goes back for his second and third snack of the night, Mathew won't have to keep sliding out of his way. Unfortunately, that would put Alfred directly across from Carlos, and having the two glaring into each other's eyes was never a good idea. For the same reason Mathew can't sit next to Carlos, or have Alfred sit there himself, since the poking and prodding would probably turn into a full-out fight in that case.
With resignment, Mathew pushes Alfred into the inner seat in the booth and slides in after him, dreading the multiple times he'll have to slide out of the way when Alfred gets hungry again, as he inevitably will. The conversation starts in a strange, halted way, though Mathew can only blame the awkwardness on him choosing to invite his brother last minute.
"So, long time, no see."
Carlos says the words that didn't suit him, and Mathew returns the awkwardness.
"Yeah, it's been busy at home."
Alfred shifts next to him, and Mathew hurriedly tacks on an excuse.
"You know, with school and chores and whatnot."
Carlos had ordered before they got there, and sips at his coffee, consideringly.
"Right." Then, "And Arthur? Is he any better or-"
Mathew feels a twinge down his spine as he remembers back right after Alfred left, when emotions were raw and Mathew had actually spoken to his friends about his home life and asked for advice. Alfred suddenly interjects.
"What's wrong with Arthur?"
Mathew hurries to cut off that line of questioning, nervously.
"No, it's bet- different - now! Arthur doesn't yell or anything anymore."
In his hurry to end that line of questioning, Mathew accidentally spills something he's meant to keep secret from Alfred, then a second too late notices his blunder, cringing. Alfred turns to Mathew, twisting sideways in the booth.
"He yelled at you?"
Mathew nervously fixes his eyes on the wall behind Alfred.
"Not at me, just... in general?"
Mathew can still picture Arthur's raging rants about Alfred's selfishness, his stupidity, his ungratefulness, etc, and the times when Arthur used to throw things, shattering plates, glasses, homemade clay figurines from when the twins were in pre-school, and pretty much anything else that could break. And then Arthur would storm off to his room for a drink, and it was Mathew who would creep out of hiding to clean up the broken pieces. Mathew always used to hide whenever Arthur got like that, ducking into the laundry room, or the bathroom, or quietly stepping back outside onto the porch, just in case Arthur decided to chuck something at him instead of the floor. Mathew stares resolutely at the table, not making eye contact with his brother.
"What does that mean?"
Alfred isn't satisfied, and Mathew tries to think of an excuse, regretting his decision to take Alfred with him. Carlos, seemingly sensing his distress, cuts in helpfully.
"You didn't order anything, right? you should grab something quick."
It's a blunt and obvious ploy to remove Mathew from the situation, but Mathew takes it gratefully, sliding out of his seat and speed-walking to the counter to order. Alfred makes a noise of protest, but apparently, Carlos stops him, and Mathew takes his sweet time ordering, hoping Alfred will have forgotten by the time he gets back. When he finally does place his order, he glances back at the table, half-dreading a fistfight, but though they do look heated, Carlos and Alfred actually seem to be having a regular conversation, which is both a shock and a relief to Mathew. By the time he gets his order and goes back to the table, Alfred and Carlos seemed to have finished their discussion and Alfred is back to frowning like Mathew has deeply offended him. Mathew didn't order anything for Alfred on purpose, and instead of sitting down immediately, he stops and offers Alfred a chance to go out.
"I didn't know what you wanted," He half-lies, "Do you want to grab something?"
Alfred is surprisingly obedient, and Mathew is suspicious of the air between his twin and his best friend, too calm for the two who usually fought. Mathew narrows his eyes suspiciously, but brushes the thought away. Carlos was his best friend, he'd never do something to hurt Mathew.
"So," Carlos leans forwards the instant Alfred was presumed out of earshot, "How is it? Really?"
And Mathew, starved for attention, even that as simple as concern for a friend, breaks immediately, spilling the truth of how things are. Carlos listens quietly without interrupting, his frown growing deeper by the minute. Only when Mathew is finished does Carlos speak bluntly.
"That's real bad, Matt."
That isn't news to Mathew, and he leans back in the booth, feeling exhausted.
"You can't tell Alfred."
Carlos gives him a sharp look, and Mathew hurriedly expands, shooting a quick glance to where Alfred is still waiting for his order.
"You know how he is! It would just make things worse and its not like he can help, so why stress him out?"
Alfred receives his order and started to head back to the table, so Mathew hurriedly ends the conversation.
"Alfred doesn't need to know. Just promise you won't tell him anything."
Carlos gives Mathew a strange look and speaks deliberately.
"I already did."
Matthew's blood runs cold.
"You what?"
There's a presence by Matthew's side, and Alfred puts a tray down on the table. Carlos doesn't even acknowledge him, maintaining eye contact with Mathew.
"He deserves to know Matt."
And with a sinking feeling of foreboding, Mathew looks up at Alfred, standing over him with that same deep frown.
"Move over." Alfred demands, and when Mathew weakly obliges, he sits down next to him.
"So." Alfred says finally, after he's situated, "Was Arthur even sick, or were you just lying to me?"
He isn't yelling, or even speaking in a loud voice, but somehow that's worse. Alfred is the type who is always loud, and Mathew's only ever seen him this quiet once before- right before he fought with Arthur and moved out. Despite himself, Mathew flinches, floundering for words.
"It's... It's not that he's not sick..."