Hi! I'm back.

I hope you enjoy this new PruCan story. I felt Matthew would make a good farmer and Gilbert a great bartender so, yeah.

Um... Lots of death again in this first chapter so I'm sorry.

Please enjoy and review.

Matthew had driven tractors since he was ten. His family farm had been passed down through generations. His grandparents passed away a few years ago and the farm had been given to his parents.

Matthew and his twin brother Alfred were adopted their parents when they were eight. Long nights in the orphanage and foster care paved way for memories of a much more simplistic and loving childhood.

They were full of two figures full of love and warmth and Matthew still believed that there was no greater love than what they shared.

The bus came to the end of their mile-long driveway and took them to school each morning. The school was small, but Matthew had known of smaller so he didn't mind much. Alfred made friends with the entire school and Matthew hung out with the two immigrants. They were the only people in the school who weren't from America. Two Italian twins made a space in Matthew's heart.

Matthew and Alfred would often go over to their house to play, engaging in water battles and mud wars in the backyard that quickly turned to apologies and book reading indoors. Reading, however, was only done in splices at the boys eagerly chatted with each other. Other days, they'd play tag or cops and robbers and Alfred always had to be a cop.

When they were done, the Vargas' would take them to the end of their very long driveway and the boys would walk the rest of the way home. They'd do chores around the farm, and then homework, finishing their exhausting days with whispers under covers until their parents would read them to sleep.

Matthew was thirteen. They were planning on getting a new tractor; one with a cage over the seat but the funds were too tight that year. The rain had caused planting to be moved back to the deadline and this was the only time they could get the seeds in before the insurance gave in.

It was dark out and Berwald should have been back in by that time. Tino had finished making a late dinner and told Matthew to tell him to come in whether he was close to finishing or not.

He was the first to find him. He had taken the gator to search the fields but knew which one he had left that day. It took him a good ten-minute drive to arrive at the scene.

Matthew vaguely remembers jumping out to search for the large man beneath the hunk of metal. Hearing a groan had only made him wish he could pull the man out, but without a visual, he knew there was no hope and heading back.

It another ten to go back for to get to their landline. It was the only way to make a call where they were at.

It took twenty minutes for the ambulance to arrive with the fire department and some others. Another thirty to get him out from under the tractor and just a second for everyone standing in the general vicinity to know he was dead.

Matthew remembered Tino's face and the horror on it that showed much more now than when the news had first arrived. He remembered looking to Alfred who was trying hard to stay brave as water dared to let itself break past his floodgates.

And Matthew remembered feeling nothing. The distinct feeling of empty hitting him as he just stared at the crushed body of his beloved father figure.

Everything around him went in slow motion. Those who tried to get him out, thinking that they could save him, only were pulled back by others who knew it was impossible. The screams and cries of Tino as he ran to the body, kneeling over it, didn't reach his ears.

Alfred turned away. Hiding his face, glancing just briefly at Matthew.

And then, Matthew looked down. A baby boy. Peter was the new addition to their family. The papers had just been filed days ago. And now, he had lost a father.

Peter was silent. He was sleeping despite all the noise around him and Matthew envied him. He placed a hand on this brother's shoulder, looking back out to Tino and his beloved.

He knew they both remembered their mother's death. They were both five when it happened. The dead eyes that looked down at them hauntingly as they walked through their doorway, coming home from a friends house. The dead eyes that stared into their souls, telling them both it was their fault as the body floated in mid-air and the mother of another child screamed behind them.

And now it was back. More dead eyes to let Matthew know he had failed. He took a deep breath and instead looked down at Peter.

Life. He would still have a good life. Alfred and Tino would too. Matthew would make sure of it.

And now, Matthew drove the tractor. Alfred tried to convince his brother he could help but Matthew had none of it. Schoolwork and friends were given up to provide for the family.

Tino had been broken. It pained both of them to see the shell of a human they loved to walk the halls of their home. It reminded them too much of their mother in the years before her death.

Matthew hadn't expected it to hurt his father figure so much. Sure, he expected the sadness, but the man who only looked out the window from day-break to dusk was not Tino. Berwald had explained Tino's story long ago and it wasn't pretty. He had endured so much. It amazed Matthew especially and now, he thought the man had caved.

Losing someone you love. Matthew had done that. It hurt, but he got over it. It made him wonder if losing a lover was different. If it would be something akin to losing his brother, should that ever happen. He came to the realization that it would, maybe, be simpler and easier not to fall in love.

Matthew took care of almost everything at home. Cleaning, cooking, bills, Peter. He'd stay up late into the night and wake early in the morning. Alfred offered help wherever he could but Matthew refused, always saying, "You need to keep going, Al. For the both of us."

Opportunity had reached their limits for Matthew and that was okay with him. He dropped out of high school to work full time at the farm. But he saw so much more for Alfred. And Alfred knew that so he tried hard and kept his grades up. He applied early to colleges and, with whatever luck, got into the University of Chicago.

Matthew remembered the day that letter came. Tino's eyes held some other emotion than grief as he looked at Alfred who was nearly crying with joy.

Matthew baked a cake, chocolate of course, and they all celebrated.

In January of Alfred's senior year, Tino had been hospitalized due to cancer and had an expected time of a month which ended all too soon.

At the funeral, they were re-introduced to two uncles: Lukas and Anderson. They had met the two over the years a couple of times but were never really close. Anderson explained that they lived in Chicago and would come down to help with budgeting and expenses each month.

The first time was strange. They showed up unannounced which scared Matthew at first. There was only one car that ever drove down their road and that was Alfred's fixer-upper Ford that the neighbor sold to them for fifty bucks after Berwald passed.

He was sitting on the porch, whittling a small replica of their new dog Matthew got shortly after Hanatamago's death. It was a Maremma sheepdog named Kumajiro who was currently sleeping in front of him. When the dog's head lifted and started barking, Matthew looked in the same direction to find a sleek car that he would later find out was a rental.

After their session of sorting out the different bills and things Matthew would have to finish for the month, he suggested, once Alfred went to college, meeting them in Chicago for a weekend.

They all agreed. For the next couple of months though, the meetings would happen at the farm and Matthew would never get used to them.

When Alfred graduated, Matthew and Peter were in the bleachers of the gymnasium that held the most people it did all year for the class numbering around 47 students.

Matthew knew he was supposed to be number 48. He wanted to be down there too but deep breathes in told him he was okay with not being.

Alfred graduated with high honors as valedictorian. Matthew cried when he mentioned their mother, Berwald, Tino, and finally Matthew whom he had stand to receive applause.

After the ceremony, he had the chance to visit with the two Italian brothers, who were also off to Chicago for school.

Because Alfred was the only one in the house with a driver's license, it worried Matthew that, when he left, groceries would be hard to come by. He found that many people in town had grown found of Alfred and decided that someone would help by delivering groceries every week as well as help them find a ride when they needed one.

Alfred was off and Matthew and Peter were left by themselves.

Alone.

Well, alone together.

Peter was a smart boy. Energetic and excitable. It reminded Matthew of Alfred when he was young. Taking care of him was similar and it was definitely something he found himself able to do.

It was odd waking Peter up for school without also waking Alfred. It was like another hole had been placed in Matthew's day-to-day that he precariously fixed by picking up another hobby: organizing.

To onlookers, it seemed like nothing changed. Peter knew though. He knew Matthew missed Alfred and the only way to make it stop was to do something else. For the next few weeks, when Peter returned home and Matthew wasn't busy with something else, he could be found in the attic, going through years of stuff.

Matthew never got rid of anything. He never thought like it was his to get rid of.

He'd help Peter with his homework and make a small meal and read him to bed.

Every month, during a weekend, the two would visit the city. A bar in the city would be where Matthew's pick up his uncle Anderson and leave Peter with him to explore the city while he'd head back to the apartment to do bills and paperwork with his uncle Lukas. On their way home, they'd visit Alfred but eventually head home early enough for Peter to finish his homework, which Matthew would remark "should have been done Friday".

A year passed. Alfred had decided his course of study would be astro-physics and Matthew couldn't think of a better field of study for him. He remember'd the days staring up at the stars together while still in the orphanage. It was the only thing that would ever keep Alfred still and quiet enough to fall asleep.

And now, Matthew was nineteen and so was Alfred. Peter was seven.

It was the first time Matthew had ever gone to the windy city without Peter who had decided to spend the weekend with a friend instead who's mother instantly insisted Matthew spend the week with his uncles as well since it was winter and he "never got a proper break".

When he called the two, Lukas picked up and instantly agreed to house him for the stay. He decided he'd have Anderson finally show him a few things around the city and maybe take his wood carvings and try to sell them somewhere there.

When Matthew got on the train, he sighed, letting himself plop onto the nearly empty car. He was alone and for once, being alone wasn't so bad. His thoughts were filled with the experiences he would have in the big city instead of their usually dread.

What could Matthew say? The city had its charms.