If you've read this chapter before, you may want to read it again because 1) If it's been a while, it will probably make chapter 2 make more sense. 2) I made a small revision to the end of the chapter. I'm from the US and was on auto pilot when I originally wrote this and wrote something that doesn't apply to citizens of Japan, so that's fixed to the best of my ability and knowledge.

I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

Chapter 1 - Checking In

Matt's POV

Matt sighed as he stared at the door, no one answered to his heavy knocks so he juggled the two bags of groceries in one arm and struggled for his keys with his other, finally pulling them out he used his teeth to help isolate the key to the door and quickly slid it into the lock and twisted it, pushing the door open in one quick motion—he didn't use the key to T.K.'s apartment a lot, but it wasn't often that he came over unannounced either.

He slid off his black jacket, revealing his blue v neck shirt, which complemented his black denim jeans.

"Hello?" He called into the quiet apartment. It wasn't dark, but the lack of sound made the apartment feel eerie. He shrugged it off and kicked his shoes off haphazardly, T.K.'s shoes were there, so he knew he was home—somewhere.

He walked into the kitchen and plopped the bags of food down on the counter, peeking around, familiarizing himself with his workspace before he peered into the living room, spotting his little brother lying on the couch.

"Hey… oh." he paused, realizing T.K. was asleep, a pair of earbuds plugged into his phone, loosely grasped in his hand. He was on his stomach, his arms folded up under his head as a pillow, his short, messy blond hair fluttered in the breeze from the air conditioning.

He was wearing a thin gray hoodie and a white tee, with dark wash jeans.

Matt smiled at the relaxed look on his brother's face and turned back to the kitchen, proceeding to prep dinner.

His thoughts wondered as he chopped vegetables, a twinge of guilt crossing his expression as he remembered the conversation between him and his mother earlier.

#

Nancy spoke gently. "I just feel like he could use some time with you—"

"You just want me to check in on him?" Matt interrupted, quietly tuning his guitar while holding his cell to his ear with his shoulder.

"I worry about him. I go out of town a lot, so I know he can take care of himself while I'm gone, but he shouldn't have to be alone the whole time and I thought it would be an excellent opportunity for the two of you." Nancy sighed. "He'll be 18 in a few months and you two spend so little time together anymore, you're always so busy—"

"Busy? Yeah, mom, because I'm working. I have a lot going on. Not just with the band either."

Nancy was silent for a moment before she conceded. "I'm sorry, Matt. I know. He's just worrying me…"

Matt stopped at the concern in her voice, setting the guitar down in his lap. "How so?"

She hesitated. "He hasn't been sleeping, and well, I'm not sure but, maybe something happened at school, he hasn't been staying after to do sports or spend time with his friends lately. He's not his usual bright self, you know?"

Matt pursed his lips, his expression not matching his calm tone. "I'm sure he's just being a typical teenager, mom. Besides, if something were wrong, I'm sure he'd talk to Kari, and she'd tell Tai and he'd tell Sora, and she'd tell me." He forced a light laugh, making a joke at his own expense. Of course, he'd only know if something was wrong with his little brother by extension of several others.

Nancy's voice seemed to grow less concerned. "You're right. I know that if it was something serious, he'd have someone to talk to. You kids are all so close after everything that happened with the Digimon."

Matt smiled lightly, helping to ease his mother's worries—regardless if the entire conversation had turned him into a nervous wreck. "Right. But, if it'll make you feel better, I'll stop one of these evenings and make dinner and hang for a bit."

Nancy's voice rang with happiness. "Oh, that's wonderful. I'm sure it'll make him happy." She paused. "My break is over. Let him know you'll be by!" She gave her usual goodbyes and I love yous and hung up in a hurry.

#

Matt sighed, throwing some oil into the frying pan and turning up the heat to cook the veggies. He turned around, about to open the package of beef when he heard a moan. "Hey there, sleepyhead." He joked, looking up from the counter. He was expecting to see T.K. sitting up, but he was still lying on the couch. "T.K.?" Matt frowned. He grabbed a towel and dried off his hands, walking around the counter and walking up to his little brother. The relaxed expression replaced with a pained one, and despite the crisp air conditioning flowing through the room, beads of sweat had formed on his face.

Matt reached down and gently put his hand on T.K.'s shoulder, giving him a couple of small shakes. "Hey…"

T.K. didn't respond to his touch, but after a few seconds his scowl deepened, and Matt could see his breathing was becoming strained.

Matt pulled the earbuds out of T.K.'s ears, growing even more concerned. "Dude, wake up!"

T.K. winced, gasping and almost tumbling off the couch, if Matt hadn't reacted quickly enough to steady him.

Matt held onto T.K.'s arm and shoulder tightly, clearly worried. "Are you alright?"

T.K. took a few seconds to collect himself and steady his breathing. "What?" He shook his head, reaching up to touch it. "Matt?" His voice full of confusion. "When…? What are you doing here?" He frowned, finally looking up at his brother.

Matt eyed his brother. He looked tired and his face was pale. "I came by to surprise you with dinner—oh crap!" Matt dashed back into the kitchen, the frying pan full of oil, sizzling angrily waiting for food to cook.

He grabbed a towel and pulled the pan off the heat and turned the stovetop down. "Damn it."

T.K. walked into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at his older brother. "Try not to burn the apartment down."

Matt sent a glare at T.K. before getting back on track with dinner. "Were you having a nightmare?"

Matt didn't look up as he brought the meat out of its packaging and began cutting. Finally, he glanced up to see T.K. was staring at him skeptically.

"What?" Matt snapped. "What's that look for?"

T.K. shrugged, finally looking away. "I haven't seen you in two months."

Matt looked up, taken off guard. "No, it hasn't. I saw you at that basketball game…"

T.K. tried to hide the disappointment in his eyes. "That was two months ago."

Matt made a few more cuts to the meat and finally looked up at T.K., pointing the tip of his blade at him. "You didn't answer my question. Stop dodging."

T.K. lost his attitude and shrugged again. "I don't remember."

"Liar." Matt hissed.

"Did mom tell you to come?" T.K. looked disappointed.

"No. What's your problem? Do you not want to hang out? We can watch that game on the TV in a bit and eat something that didn't come out of the freezer and get heated in the microwave."

T.K. didn't seem convinced, but let it go. "Sure. What can I help with?"

Matt smiled at his mild victory, aware that T.K. had still dodged the nightmare question, but he seemed a lot better now. His complexion was better, and he sounded normal. "Just grab the seasoning from that bag over there."

A little while later and the apartment filled with the savory aroma of stir-fry and the sound of the basketball game T.K. had wanted to watch.

They fell back into old habits and superficial discussions about daily life. Either T.K. was doing fine, and mom was reading into things, or T.K. was doing a good job of hiding that anything was bugging him. Other than the incident with the nightmare which Matt was quickly forgetting about, nothing seemed different from normal.

Matt and T.K. finished watching the game and began clearing the empty plates and glasses into the kitchen.

Matt started rolling up his sleeves, preparing to wash the dishes, and T.K. nudged him out of the way. "Nah, you cooked it all, I'll wash the dishes."

Matt gave T.K. a look and shrugged. "Whatever, if you say so."

"When I'm done, we could…" T.K. glanced back, seeing Matt grabbing his jacket. "Oh…"

Matt tilted his head and gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry bud, I got band stuff tonight."

T.K.'s expression betrayed himself for a moment before he plastered his very genuine looking smile back on his face, quickly turning back to the sink. "Right. Sorry, I didn't mean…"

Matt saw it. That look in T.K.'s eyes, the disappointment he only allowed to flicker across his face before he gave his award-winning smile to absolve Matt of any guilt. "Hey, it's fine. I wish I could stay, really. But you know how it goes."

T.K. nodded, not looking up from the cup he was washing for probably a few seconds too long. "Of course. You've been here a long time. I should have guessed you needed to head out."

Matt pursed his lips, his keys gripped tightly in his hands. "I had a lot of fun. I'll make time for this more often. Promise."

T.K. didn't respond to his comment, just nodding. "Tell the guys I said hi. See ya later."

"I will." Matt glanced at his watch before begrudgingly heading toward the door. "See ya, T.K."

Matt pulled his shoes on and opened the door. He stopped and stared at the ceiling guiltily. He shut the door rather loudly, turning he bent down and began slipping his shoes back off, but before he could he heard glass break in the kitchen and T.K. gasping. He darted back and as he peered into the kitchen, he almost stumbled, the sight in front of him making him go white with shock.

T.K. was staring at his right hand as blood flowed from the long cut across his palm. His hand shook subtly. The only sound in the apartment was the running water in the sink.

"T.K.!" Matt hissed loudly.

Startled, T.K. whirled around, blood falling to the floor in large drops. He blinked hard and grabbed for a hand towel on the counter, wrapping around the cut. "It's just… I dropped a cup and I… it's not that bad." He stuttered as Matt walked over to him, trying to reach for his hand.

"Come here." Matt ordered firmly.

T.K. pulled away. "I'm fine, Matt."

Matt scowled at him, seeing the cup in the sink, large shards of glass covered in his blood. "Let me see."

T.K. turned, trying to stop Matt from reaching him. "It's fine—" blinking hard, he found himself lightheaded, his knees giving out on him.

"T.K.!" Matt grabbed his brother quickly, lowering him to the floor, resting his back against the cabinet. "Here. Take it easy."

T.K. tried to hide the pain in his voice, but he knew he couldn't mask it completely. "I'm alright. Can you just go get the first aid kit?"

Matt grabbed T.K.'s wrist and grumbled. "Damn it, T.K., let me see it." He started taking the towel away from the cut.

T.K. relented, not entirely of his own will. "Matt, it's—gah!"

Matt growled angrily as he shoved the towel back over the cut firmly. "T.K., that's so deep! You're going to need stitches!" His anger was clear. "How did you cut yourself that badly?"

T.K. winced as he unsuccessfully tried to release Matt's tight grip on his wrist. "The glass slipped. I tried to catch it, but I didn't react in time and it broke as I grabbed it."

Matt muttered something T.K. couldn't understand, dragging him to his feet. "Let's go."

T.K. shook his head, protesting. "No, it'll be fine. Matt, go to your band practice."

"No. I'm taking you to the urgent care. Let's go!"

"Matt, if mom finds out." T.K.'s voice broke. "Matt…!"

Matt turned to face T.K., seeing the panic on his face. "Calm down. I won't call her. I'll put myself down as your guardian so won't contact her either, okay?"

T.K. lost all his fight and lowered his head. It took Matt a few seconds to realize T.K. was no longer resisting him. Walking to the other side of the kitchen, Matt grabbed a dry clean towel out of the drawer, quickly replacing the blood soaked one, tossing it toward the sink. "Let's go."

T.K. only gave a single nod, allowing Matt to pull him toward the front door.