Talking to the police was exhausting and since Arthur was the only one with both stable energy and brain cells, it fell to him to do most of the talking. Having the big group of tag-alongs there helped if only by pressuring him to act as refined as possible so he didn't embarrass himself in front of them and give them more ammo to use against him.
But that was just reflexive paranoia. Arthur really doubted anyone would use his nervousness against him today. Not when it was so extremely valid and felt throughout the group, lingering like a ghost.
Arthur had brought the art book and screwed up papers too... for evidence. Though he really hated the idea of having more people see what his very private brother left behind... he reminded himself it was necessary. When he handed over Kuma's note he couldn't help but think that when he saw some of those artwork pictures... there was an inexplicable sinking feeling that he just knew they weren't for a grade. He made the right call in not showing everything the night before to the group.
Arthur really felt like a fuckup. But he wouldn't let anyone cotton onto that with his 'keep calm and carry on' attitude. Now was the time for making progress. Crying about it wouldn't help. He had to keep himself calm so the others wouldn't get in his way of what he needed to achieve.
At least the police were taking this seriously. Some pessimistic part of Arthur feared that because of Matthew's age being a legal adult, the police would take one look and simply state they'd 'keep an eye out for him' as if the severity of this was debatable. As if any of this was normal and nothing to worry about and not life-threatening. As if this wasn't shattering Arthur's fragile world and the shards were digging into his heart.
But with all the signs pointing to Matthew having a mental health episode the police worked quickly and everyone was promptly split up to be questioned. The questions were extremely uncomfortable and did not steer away from confronting a potential suicide. Arthur felt like he was going to be sick as he walked back into the foyer with the questions and his answers ringing in his head. He wasn't the only one who looked seconds away from vomiting or fainting. Perhaps both.
The others must still be in questioning because it was just Gilbert sitting, hunched over with a harrowing expression. Arthur sat next to him but had nothing to say. His tongue felt too heavy and with a blank mind, there was nothing he could think to say.
"Fuck," Gilbert muttered with force as he took a swig from a water bottle that he didn't have earlier. Gilbert's knee was bouncing like he was about to burst. "They sent me out here."
Well, that explained why Gilbert wasn't being questioned. Arthur could see how his restlessness wouldn't be too helpful. Gilbert hadn't read the letter to Kuma, but Arthur could tell that from the questions that had been asked, he understood precisely what was at stake. Maybe that realisation sinking in was causing Gilbert to become so agitated now and the police couldn't work with him.
"I was staring at him this whole time," Gilbert cringed as he ran his hands through his hair, "and I didn't even notice..."
"At least you were looking," slipped some Arthur's spiteful mouth. Arthur couldn't think of what he was doing at the time now he looked back. He knew that it had to have been something he considered pressing and decided to prioritise then, but now he felt so foolish.
That admittance of neglect almost made his feeling of sickness become a reality but fortunately, an officer came up to him with a request he was too eager to fill. Having access to the states's death records, Arthur had to recite the spelling of his little brother's name and date of birth while fighting bile because he dreaded this answer.
Arthur needed Matthew to be alive. He would give up tea for life as long as Matthew was alive. He'd let Alfred move out for Matthew to be alive. He'd let Francis in his kitchen every single day for Matthew to be alive. He wouldn't interfere with whatever was going on between Francis and Alfred as long as Matthew was alive. Arthur wouldn't even care about why this happened as long as Matthew was alive. Because he needed Matthew to be alive. He needed it more than oxygen. He needed Matthew to be alive. If he wasn't here he needed to be alive. That thought was the only thing repeated in his mind as every second was one second too long keeping him from the answer.
"Fortunately, I'm not seeing any records for this name."
It should be relieving, but the way that it was said had Arthur waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"What do you mean 'for that name'? What other name could he be under, since you're implying he could be dead under another name. Why would he be under any other name-?"
"Sir, when people die they usually get identified so not seeing his name here is a really positive thing-"
"But?" Arthur's voice reflected his desperation. "You're not going to say that's conclusive?"
"It's not conclusive. There's a chance -keep in mind a very extremely slim chance- that if Matthew died he was never identified. This rarely happens but it usually just depends on how the person died. I seriously doubt that he would've gone unidentified but we can't rule it out."
Despite being explicitly told that the odds were in Matthew's favour, Arthur couldn't feel his hands. But he could feel his stomach and it was churning.
"I can check if there have been any unidentified bodies in the morgues in this district that match Matthew's description," the officer offered, though the offer was more a formality because already knowing Arthur's answer, the officer went ahead and did just that.
Arthur focused on keeping his hands rested on the counter because if he didn't his stomach was going to lurch into his throat and out his mouth. It came close when Alfred walked in and Arthur caught his eye and knew his brother wasn't dealing with this any better. At least Francis and Antonio came in a moment later and were able to keep the others company.
"No one with Matthew's description and demographic parameters needs identifying," the officer said in a tone that was meant to be conclusively reassuring. "Should I give your contact to the morgues if someone does come up and need to be identified-?"
"Please."
It was good. This was good news. That's what Arthur told himself over and over as he swallowed thickly and tried to relax his tense hands. This was good because it meant that Matthew had to be alive. He had to be.
But... Arthur really hated his over pragmatic mind for being able to think of everything when situations called for it so once he had the thought, he knew his stomach wasn't going to settle. The police can only help if a body has been found. What if Matthew...
No, it could mean he's alive. It has to mean he's alive and not rͥ͏̀͠͏otẗ̹ĭ̮̟̳͗̒͜n̘ͥg̯̀͂̚ somewhere with bugs crawling over unseeing eyes-
Keep calm and carry on. Arthur would be dammed if he let anyone know what he was thinking because surely he was overthinking and that would certainly be embarrassing when Matthew was proven to be alive.
With promises to call if they found anything, the officers filed the missing persons case. But Arthur would be damned if he thought there was nothing left for him to do.
Everyone piled back into the car in eerie silence, now drained and contemplative. Everyone knew that Matthew was probably not dead, and that was very relieving but it certainly wasn't something to celebrate. Because he was still gone. It was reassuring that he was alive but without him here... it was like he had died. It felt like he died and now they were mourning.
Arthur ran a hand through his hair and pulled as he kept thinking about it against his will. There was nothing to mourn.
There was no fighting for the front seat. Everyone sat in the same spot they drove there in. Antonio was in the front, though his job as a navigator was redundant because Arthur knew how to get to his own home. But Antonio still felt the need to try and remain positive.
Arthur's eyes were narrowed on the road when Antonio spoke up, his tone sympathetic and pissing Arthur off.
"I couldn't imagine if it was one of my brothers-"
"Well be grateful that it's not." Arthur shut it down. Or tried to.
"Right. Just stay strong amigo," Antonio wrung his hands together. He couldn't imagine if it was one of his half-brothers but he knew himself and he'd do everything that could for the one that remained. He also knew that the not knowing would eat him alive too. "You have all of us on your side and I'm sure with time we'll get answers."
"Oh, you're sure?" Arthur cocked his head to the side condescendingly, despite in his mind Antonio being the one condescending with his blatant lies. "I'm so glad you think so."
Arthur didn't even feel like a person now. Just like a dog that only knew how to bark. He could feel it coming on and couldn't make himself stop as be began to tear into Antonio.
Alfred could feel himself tuning out the blooming fighting in the front. No one had the energy to chip in.
"Need me to hold your hand?" Gilbert's smirk was weak and his voice was reluctant but nothing would ever stop him from joking. Not that his offer was a joke, with an outreached hand he leaned towards Alfred.
"Nah," Alfred struggled to vocalise as his limbs felt like lead and his body weighed down in the seat, almost like he was being swallowed.
"You sure? That's what besties are for," Gilbert's eyes crinkled as he jabbed Alfred's side. "And Francis can hold your other hand~"
A little jolt of electricity ran through Alfred at the words and then he couldn't keep his fingers still.
"You just need your hand held, don't you?" He weakly quipped as if that was the reason for changing his mind.
Alfred held his hands out and let his friends on either side take them.
Gilbert squeezed his hand tightly as if he were trying to hurt him. Alfred didn't care because while it was certainly edging towards painful, it was more comforting than anything. Plus he couldn't really feel it.
Meanwhile, Francis's hands were nice and soft. Hands plural because Francis grabbed Alfred's hand with both of his and wrapped his fingers around with a sense of security. If Alfred could feel his fingers he'd probably be worried that he was sweating, or squeezing Francis' hand too hard or not hard enough. He tried not to move his hand too much and just kept it in place as Francis warmed it.
Alfred needed a distraction.
Because he and Gilbert were best friends, Gilbert knew about Alfred's crush. He had told Gilbert some while ago when his feelings first surfaced so he could pester him about Francis and have someone to talk to about it who was close to his crush. Also, because of that Alfred put up with a lot of helpful and unhelpful teasing, so he was kinda annoyed he had the opportunity to do the same... but didn't know it.
Why did Gilbert never tell Alfred about how he felt about Matthew?
"How comes you never told me you liked Matthew?" There was no accusation. Just stated. "I wouldn't have cared or judged or whatever. I could've helped."
Gilbert's face twisted as he shrugged and looked away.
"I don't think he knew until I told him," Francis said sympathetically. "That didn't happen until just before graduating..."
"You knew and he didn't?" Alfred really shouldn't be surprised, but still.
"It was obvious," Francis said with a little amusement. "So obvious that I think he just assumed you knew. That's what I did. I assumed Gilbert knew how he felt and... once I told him I figured you knew."
"Maybe I should've realised that when you never teased me about it," Gilbert speculated sheepishly. "I just thought you were being an awesome friend and trying to show you didn't actually mind..."
"It's too bad you didn't know, Alfred. Maybe you could've helped and seen if Matthew would've found an advance welcoming or not." Francis sighed tiredly at Gilbert. "He always came for my advice but then never took it."
"I was nervous okay? What if I didn't make an awesome impression!"
Somehow, talking about Matthew like this didn't make it hurt more. It didn't make it hurt any less, but Alfred was just glad to be talking about his brother in any way. It made it feel like his brother was still here and remembered.
Not forgotten for a month... and disappeared into thin air.
Distract yourself, Alfred!
"But why did it make you nervous? I've never seen you and nervous in the same room- wait, ugh. Y'know what I mean," Alfred pressed on. "I thought you and Mattie were friends so why didn't you have his number at least?"
Before it disconnected... for some reason.
Did Matthew purposely disconnect his number? He really didn't want to be reached, didn't want to see them ever again, he must hate them-
Distract yourself, Alfred!
"Well, I thought we were friends because we talked and stuff but it wasn't like we were friends friends... It's so not awesome that I didn't try harder," Gilbert sighed as he faltered. "I just was too much of a coward to make any move that might tip him off that I was into him... I didn't want to make things weird."
"If only I knew..." Alfred trailed off. The past tense was getting to him. "Then I could've investigated for you... and had brother talks with him about it and... yeah."
When the conversation reached an end, no one else had the energy to talk. The rest of the car ride was in silence until they got home.
Immediately Antonio claimed he needed a siesta and retreated to the spare room. No one blamed him, not when he seemed so down and battered from the argument he had with Arthur.
"I don't care who comes and goes from the house, just don't disturb me," Arthur demanded.
"Are you just gonna go back to work?!" The words fell from Alfred's mouth before he had time to screen them- and was embarrassed that his tone was much more needy than he would've liked.
"No. I'm going to call in so I can try to rule out more possibilities," Arthur said tensely like he was trying not to snap. "Ugh, 'Call in'- I'm going to contact every morgue and whatever places that would hold death records I can find because the results we got this morning were only from inside that police jurisdiction or area or bloody whatever- I can't rest until it's ruled out and either you help me or stay out of my way."
Alfred didn't know what to say, his mouth moved and usually words came out when he did that but he was just hurt that just when they thought Mattie could be alive, Arthur was convinced he might not be.
"Ah-" Arthur winced and looked like he wanted to say something but then pulled at his hair before resolving to walk away. Then he stopped and pivoted back. "I'm sure he's alive because the police have networks and would be able to see death records from all over the country. So like they said, he isn't confirmed dead and it's highly improbable that he's... in need to be identified. But I can't rest because I still don't like not knowing where he is. I know you'll want to help so how about we take some time to regain ourselves and cool off and then we'll meet back here in, say, half an hour?"
Arthur didn't wait for a response, he just power-walked off and locked himself in his room.
"I kinda wanna join Toni with the siesta thing but I don't think I can sleep now," Alfred mumbled as he stood lifeless.
"Good thing your awesome thinking has us prepared," Gilbert's tone failed to sound like a joke as he grabbed the energy drinks from last night and handed them out. He cracked his open. "I'll race ya!"
Then Gilbert threw his head back and started drinking.
"Yeah. Race ya." Alfred repeated as his weak fingers couldn't open the drink. Then he clawed at it with his fingernails. Then he growled as he tried to get it with his teeth. Then as someone's hand tried to take it off from him Alfred jerked it away and pelted it onto the ground as he cursed. It exploded and got on the floor and his shoes and pants and he didn't really feel it because he was still cursing. It hurt his lungs but he continued to curse until-
"Fucking hell Alfred! What did you do?" Arthur was suddenly in front of him and getting into his space.
"Nothing! It fucking slipped!" Alfred grunted as he kicked the can and it continued to leak. "Fuck, now it's all over me!"
"Well, what did you expect- ugh! Just go shower! I said to calm down so we could actually focus on something productive but here you are just causing problems-"
"What are you trying to say asshole? That I always cause problems? Every problem? Are you fucking blaming me for Mattie leaving because that's real fucking rich! Go take a look in a mirror because maybe it's your fucking fault-"
It would've escalated a lot further a lot faster if it wasn't for the intervention of two bystanders who, instead of enjoying the drama found they could not because of the personal stakes and couldn't tolerate the rising conflict anymore.
"Woah, I get this sucks big time but didn't you just say we should all calm down?" Gilbert pulled Arthur to the side, ignoring any flailing limbs and insults. "How about you have a cup of tea? For some reason it makes you feel better. How would you feel if I said I've never tried tea before but I'll try it right now if you make one?"
Alfred would've kept yelling at Arthur as he was being dragged away if it weren't for Francis stepping between them and saying his name with his lovely French accent-
"Alfred breathe!" Francis's hands were pressing down on his shoulders and pushing him around the mess he made left to rot on the floor. "It's no one's fault. If Matthew was depressed then he would've done everything he could to hide it-"
"But we didn't notice it! I didn't notice it and-"
"And it's not your fault, it's no one's fault-"
"FUCK! It fucking has to be! How can it be no one's fault!" Alfred's hands were clasped tightly onto Francis' arms. "It has to be someone's fault and Arthur's fucking blaming me!"
"He's not. He's just stressed," Francis' eyes were wide open as he insisted his point. "You're stressed and blaming Arthur but do you really mean it?"
"Yes! I mean probably!" Alfred couldn't catch his breath or control his volume. "Maybe it's both our faults cus we're such shit brothers! But Arthur's just fucking blaming me because he just thinks I'm such an asshole but he doesn't know that he's an asshole too!"
"No one's an asshole I promise," Francis was urging Alfred to believe him. "This is a horrible situation that hurts everyone."
Alfred could feel himself working himself into a frenzy as his breathing was becoming shallower and his hands cramping as they flew around and hit things he couldn't see.
And then Francis gave him a hug. Alfred would like to say it took all his worries away but it didn't, though it did take away the immediate edge as he slumped forward.
A wave of shame overcame him and his eyes itched borderline untolerably. With a sniffle, he scrubbed at them so hard that his vision temporarily went black.
"I promise I'm not actually an asshole! I don't know why- I just don't know why-"
"You're just stressed. No one's blaming you for being stressed. It's okay. Just - have a shower and put on fresh clothes and maybe you'll feel better. And if you don't I'll be here -ah, we'll all be here for you."
"Okay, alright, thanks for uh, not judging me and all cus yeah..." Alfred needed to lock himself in the bathroom before he embarrassed himself even more.
"I think even Arthur is exempt from being judged right now," Francis said humorlessly. "I'll make sure he's calmed down by the time you come out. Just take your time and come out when you're ready."
Usually, Alfred would be more embarrassed at being blatantly babied and would resist being told what to do, but his overwhelming shame and guilt said to just nod and comply before Francis thought he was more of a disastrous difficult catastrophe than he really was.
With a door between them, Francis let his posture slouch as a breath of exhaustion escaped. His hands were shaking and thankfully Alfred didn't notice. Francis didn't think he could comfort Alfred if he didn't seem comfortable himself. Fake it until you make it.
At least Gilbert's massive self-confidence kept him from getting caught up and tangled by fear. It was clear he was stressed, but he was still able to see the humour like always. Francis came back into the kitchen to see Gilbert and Arthur arguing.
It wasn't proper passionate arguing (so you know it wasn't about tea), more just out of obligation and routine. Like pineapple on pizza- no, bad example, people actually get cutthroat over that. The argument was just more of a debate where the words being said were without any investment and just for the sake of talking. But it served a purpose to distract Arthur.
It distracted Gilbert too and since he wasn't personally invested in pissing off Arthur he would even admit that arguing with him was pretty fun. Now he could see what Alfred and Francis saw in the activity.
Meanwhile, Francis wrapped his arms around his body as he watched the exchange and was struck by just how lifeless Gilbert's eyes were, lacking their usual spark. Francis wanted nothing more than to give his friend a hug and be a shoulder to share burdens but he knew not much could make this situation better. But he'd still try all he could and offer his shoulders to cry on. If he could make anything even just a little bit better and more tolerable, then maybe he could feel like he helped.
"Mind the mess," Arthur said as Francis came back. "I'll make Alfred clean it up when he comes back. Maybe that'll teach him some responsibility."
"Non, I'll do it," Francis said as he helped himself to the cleaning supplies.
Arthur went to say something against it-
"It'll keep me busy," Francis asserted as he steadied his hands. "I'm sure he'll just feel bad when he sees it so it'll make me feel like I'm helping."
Arthur sighed but said nothing more. He understood.
"You should tell Alfred you don't really blame him," Francis added, his voice serious. "I don't think he blames you and he already blames himself. He just got upset because he thinks you're blaming him."
"But I do partially blame him!" Arthur groaned in frustration. "I blame myself too! We were living with Matthew and never noticed anything!"
"So it's my fault too?" Gilbert asked without any challenge, instead sensitive to the truth. He was already bracing for the news that it was his fault too.
"Yes! Yours and everyone's- It's everyone's fault," Arthur pressed a hand to his mouth as his voice became choked.
There was a moment of silence.
"Maybe just tell Alfred that you don't blame him specifically," Francis suggested. "Tell him that you're frustrated and lashing out at everyone but... please don't make him shoulder the burden of completely blaming himself..."
Arthur hesitated before nodding and continued to drink his tea in silence.
After a couple of moments, Arthur had calmed and with some thought, his guilt could see that if he didn't make things right now then things could only get worse. That wouldn't be helpful. Now was time to act like a big brother and... maybe he shouldn't have snapped at Antonio because he did need to stay strong. He had to step carefully and act right. Set the example and whatnot.
But it would never make up for all the times he failed as the oldest.
"You're very mature," Arthur painfully admitted as he downed the last bit of his tea. "Hopefully, you'll be a good influence on Alfred."
"I'm sure you're all very surprised to know that I can't sleep," Antonio chuckled as he came back in. "This must be... trying times if I can't have a siesta..."
"Can't blame you, this is where all the action's happening," Gilbert chimed.
"Antonio..." Arthur was finding this whole 'act like a big brother' or just 'the bigger person' quite difficult. He poured himself more tea. "I'm sorry for earlier."
"No hard feelings amigo, I hear worse from Lovi," Antonio said with a light laugh that completely dismissed his brother's... well, everyone knew and loved Lovino. Arthur had to admit, he was glad that Lovino wasn't his brother otherwise he would've died of some kind of stroke years ago.
Alfred wandered into the room, looking much fresher but also much more reluctant. He kept his gaze on the ground and kept twisting his fingers together.
Arthur grabbed another energy drink from the fridge and opened it before handing it to Alfred.
"I'm sorry for my outburst earlier. I'm just very stressed and lashing out. So don't blame yourself." Arthur was going to get constipated at this rate. But he had to remind himself to keep calm and continue.
"Yeah I'm sorry too Arthur," Alfred took the drink with mumbled thanks.
"Good, now that's out of the way, how about we do what we can?"
The morning was spent with Arthur making phone calls, so many that if it wasn't for his tea then his throat would've dried out from all the talking.
The others had a much easier job. Between taking calls Arthur instructed them to text everyone from the day before with a new update. Leaving out the details of how severe Matthew's mental health could possibly be to have done this, Arthur tasked everyone with sending a new message asking to contact them ASAP if they learn anything about Matthew at all.
Once that was taken care of the next thing was to post all over social media. Anywhere where it was appropriate to get the message out.
It was 24 hours after this had all started when they had done everything they possibly could've and all their energy was spent. Not one single call that Arthur had made brought bad news, which was the only silver lining to the whole situation. Because now it finally felt that without a shadow of a doubt, Matthew was alive. Somewhere out there.
But it went without saying that everyone still felt like he had passed because why else would they be mourning?
Only time would tell if anything came from their efforts. Still sensitive from the day's events, it was unanimously unsaid that no one wanted to be alone. So without any of the typical bickering, the group extended their sleepover and found temporary solace in gathering in the living room.
Everyone could use a distraction and being alone meant fending off one's guilt by themselves.