In retrospect, maybe running away wasn't the best way to deal with his problems. Then again, maybe that's the pot speaking. He's lucky he managed to bum some of Carlos -it's not technically bumming, he's going to pay him back later- But now that he's standing outside his own front door, steeling himself to go in, it occurs to Mathew that maybe he shouldn't have taken drugs first. But he's already put it off for too long. Carefully, he opens the front door, ready to slip in and apologize for his shameful escape of earlier. Then he freezes. There's an even mutter of voices in the kitchen. Not raised, or biting, just voices, like two people having a conversation. Mathew creeps closer.

"I've been trying my best, but I know it's not enough, and I know I've hurt you -both of you. I just don't know how to fix it."

Arthur, actually talking to Alfred, not snapping, scolding, or giving sharp commands.

"Have you tried?"

Alfred's voice replying, not yelling, not fighting or sneering and sarcastic, just ...talking. Like a normal person.

Like a normal family.

"I...I don't know where to start."

"Start by talking to us. We're people too, we have our own thoughts and feelings, and we can communicate with you if you just give us a chance."

Mathew's eyes burn. How long has it been since Arthur and Alfred had talked together instead of fighting? How long had it been since they'd acted like a normal family? Arthur laughs, in a sort of self-hating way.

"I've really been foolish, haven't I?" Mathew peeks around the corner and sees Arthur raise his head back up from his hands, eyes rimmed in red, like he had been crying not long before. "I'm sorry, Alfred."

Mathew can't even remember the last time Arthur apologized to one of them, the last time he admitted he was wrong.

Alfred looks like he's moments from tears too, in a way Mathew hasn't seen on his brother for years. "Yeah. Just make sure you tell Mattie that too."

He twitches at his own name. He wants to go out, to be a part of that family he craves so much...if only it wasn't so scary. What if he steps out, and says something wrong, and this fragile peace shatters, and everything goes back to how it used to be? Mathew doesn't want to go back to living like a ghost in an abandoned house, trying to make it through each day, only for the same thing to happen tomorrow. He's scared to be the reason for that.

A few tears escape and roll down his cheeks, But Mathew hurriedly cuts them off before he breaks down completely, and wipes his tears. He steels himself, and tries to look normal and okay when he steps through the doorway.

"Um, hi? I'm back?"

He barely registers the sound of a chair screeching as it's pushed out before Alfred's got him caught in a noogie, which is the Alfred alternative to a hug.

"Don't run off like that! I was worried! Why didn't you answer your phone, dumbass?"

His phone? Mathew tries to remember as he wiggles free.

"Oh, I didn't bring it... It's in my room."

And he suddenly becomes aware that Arthur is standing next to him too, and Arthur pats his shoulder in some strange Arthur-version of comfort.

"Mathew, I-" He chokes on his words, and stops for a moment to consider before continuing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mathew sees Alfred's lips start to turn down into a familiar frown, like he's discovered something he doesn't like, and Mathew thinks he knows what that is. He tries to ignore Alfred and focus on Arthur instead. Arthur takes a deep, steadying breath and pushes on.

"I'm sorry for how I've been lately Mathew, and how I've been treating you." This time it's Arthur who avoids eye contact. "I didn't mean to make you feel alone."

Mathew freezes. Did he ever tell Arthur that's how he felt?

"Yesterday, when you...last night, I didn't want to face it, but you're right. And I've been very unfair to you."

And Mathew feels so dizzy he might vomit. Because last night, when he spoke to Arthur, when he poured out his heart-

"But you were asleep."

He barely croaks the words out, defensively. Arthur can't know what he said, those dirty and mean feelings Mathew aired, because if he does, that means he wasn't sleeping when Mathew said those things, and if he wasn't sleeping it means-

"I'm sorry." Arthur apologizes again, sincerely. "I was drunk, and it was late, and I was overwhelmed, and-"

And it's not fair.

So many years, he'd managed. He hadn't cried through all the fights, or when Alfred left (except maybe a little), or when he came home to mouldy laundry left in the washer and empty cupboards, or even when he had a heart-to-heart with Alfred last night, or even this morning when they started fighting again. Every time he'd almost broken down he'd held it back, he'd managed. And now-

He doesn't mean to shove Arthur's hand off his shoulder, he doesn't mean to take a step back, but he does anyways, and there's a tickling of tears beginning to escape and trickle down his face, and he feels like he's falling apart.

"That's not fair."

His voice wavers as he chokes out the words, and he throws an arm up to cover his tears. It's not fair. It's not fair that he's crying now, after he's held it back for so long. It's not fair that it took Alfred, the cause of the problem, to fix it. It's not fair that Mathew has to listen to Arthur's apology when Arthur pretended he couldn't hear Mathew when he bared his heart.

It's not fair that Mathew can't even get angry, because what he's always wanted is finally happening, and Mathew can't risk breaking his family apart again over something so dumb.

It's not fair that it hurts so much to hear Arthur's admittance, but Arthur can just gloss over it with an apology.

The tears refuse to stop, and Alfred tugs on his arm, and Mathew gives up on hiding them. Maybe he can blame his emotional imbalance on the drugs. Someone reaches for him and pulls him into an awkward hug he hadn't felt since he was a kid.

"I know, Mattie."

There's no way Alfred could know.

"It's not fair that he's apologizing and it doesn't undo what he's done. But we still gotta accept it, because this is our family."

But, bizarrely, Alfred does understand.

"I hate it too."

And impossibly, Mathew feels a few hot drops hit his shirt, like the older brother that's holding him in an awkward hug is crying too, like Maybe it wasn't just Mathew who needed that hug. Alfred sniffles, and Mathew sneakily wipes his nose on his sleeve, and somewhere outside their sibling breakdown, a voice speaks, small and shaky.

"I'm sorry. You're right, it's not fair. I- I can't change the past, but,.,.but if you give me another chance, I promise I won't make the same mistakes again."

Alfred wipes his nose on Mathew's shoulder, and Mathew kicks his shin, and they break apart, floundering in feelings and trying to find their footing.

"Okay." Mathew finally concedes in a shaky voice. He's not ready to forgive Arthur, not yet. But he's ready to try again.

"This is the last time." Alfred warns, and Arthur looks tired but relieved and awkwardly he takes a hesitant half-step forward, like he's checking if he's still allowed to hug them, and Mathew steps forward to meet him and pulls him into a tight bear-hug, and even Alfred lets Mathew drag him in, and Arthur starts crying too, and it's a wet and gross hug, and Mathew's pretty sure that Alfred's boogers have ended up on Arthur's tie, but no one mentions it, because no one cares right now. All of them just try to enjoy the feeling of a second chance.

Mathew wonders why it took them 16 years to get to this point.

Finally, they break the hug, all of them awkwardly trying to pretend they haven't just shown too much raw emotion, and Alfred wipes roughly at his eyes and Arthur turns his back, pretending to be about to make tea, but Mathew can tell he's wiping his face with his handkerchief, and Mathew is suddenly starving. He doesn't even make one step toward the fridge before Alfred reminds him why Mathew didn't miss his twin that much.

"So," Alfred says faux-casually, "I think we should talk about the fact Mathew is high as hell right now."

Mathew considered making a run for the second time.