A/N: Well, I should probably stop warning you about Crazy Mattie. So, um, yep. Do not own, sadly, blahblahblah. Oh, and the it implied, is the 'demon' inside Matthewe, just letting y'all know. I know these chapters are short (if you can even call them that) but that's how it's attended. Those of you who know me, know I am capable of handling longer chapters, but I just didn't feel this would be right that way. (:

Anyway, without furthur ado- part three!


003: A Deception

"Arthur!"

It had been the fourth time the blond had called his name, and still his companion refused to look up from drawing stick figures into his desk. Matthew pressed his lips together, trying to make sense of this. Sure, people didn't exactly remember his name, but to completely ignore his presence- to this extent- was ridiculous.

He stood, collecting his bag, protectively holding it to his chest as mother would do with her child. It wasn't like he had anything else to hold onto.

"Well, I guess I'll be going..." There was no response, which was no surprise, even if he had been an ounce hopeful. Without much thought other than that, he fled the scene of his classroom in search of answers. Anything would suffice.

He rubbed the back of his head, letting a sigh escape his lips.
Stood in the hall, empty, alone.

Even the demon inside of him was sleeping.

He wandered the hallways, mindlessly, as if there was nowhere else to go, like the doors were locked. He was keeping himself there, and he wasn't sure why. The idea of leaving just didn't feel right to him. The male felt an approaching presence, stopping in his tracks.

"Matthew?" He turned as if on cue, capturing the eyes of his brother. "What are you doing just standing there? Don't you have class?"

His breath was shaky. "Don't you?" It was awakening.

"There's a funny story to that, actually." Alfred's chuckle was exceptionally delicious, smooth as honey, as eyes crinkled in laughter. "My teacher didn't really notice I was there. Sooo, I found it the perfect excuse to leave class and head over to get some food."

Typical Alfred, Matthew thought with a kind smile. "The same thing happened, actually."

"Weird." He watched Alfred press his lips together, taking a few steps closer to him. He noticed the sick bruises of his lips, the ones his demon insisted on giving him, the cuts and scratches of struggling bodies. Did I really do that?

"You okay there, bro?" He asked with a strained grin, scratching his chin.

"Brother, do you know what happened last night?"

He saw how his body tensed with the question. His own shivered in satisfaction, knowing that his actions caused this kind of reaction. "I kinda just blanked out the second I got my room, hahahaha..."

Matthew remained silent, daring him as the distance between them steadily diminished in size. "Can I seem them?"

It loved the sight of scars. And although his memories deceived him, he knew exactly where every one rested on his beloved brother's body.

Scratches as deep as his nails would allow on his back and thighs. Bruises from overbearing grips and forceful lips on his face. Cuts on his neck, his torso, cheeks.

And one more.

"Can you see what?" He seemed confused. Matthew wanted to believe in this confusion. But the madness inside of him refused to take it as an acceptable answer.

"You know, exactly. So," Alfred's back hit the lockers with a thud, his jacket stripped from his body. "Let me see them." This time it wasn't a question, but a demand. From the real him. The mad him. The demon.

With curious fingers, he pulled up the fabric of his shirt. He took is slow, not pulling away from his brother's gaze, sky blue meeting lilac. A pair frightened. A pair excited. His lips brushed over his, just barely, a ghost kiss, fingertips brushing along his torso, a ghost touch- just before Matthew looked down to see exactly what his memories deprived him of.

A deep gash right over little America's heart, right where he raised that knife.