"What the hell are you doing?" Gilbert called to the blonde, who was ready to jump off the bridge he was crossing, and threw down his backpack.

"What does it look like?" the purple-eyed boy whispered.

Gilbert held out his hand. "Look, I don't know why you want to kill yourself, but I swear it's not worth it."

"You don't know me. You don't know what it's like!" the boy cried, tears streaming down his face.

"I do know. I just drink instead of jumping off bridges." Gilbert withdrew his hand, shoving it in his pocket. "What's your name, kid?"

The boy sniffed and answered, "Matthew."

"Matthew! You're the kid from my Pre-Cal class!" Gilbert said.

"You… you recognize me?"

"Of course I do," Gilbert told him. "I'm good with faces. Names, not so much."

"Are you sure it's not Alfred you're thinking of?" Matthew questioned.

"Alfred? You mean Jones? I have him in P.E., and he has blue eyes. And that weird hair in the front. You, however, are in my Pre-Cal class. I'm sure of it."

Matthew looked uncertainly at the water below him, tightening his grip of the ledge.

"Come on, Mattie. Take my hand. You don't want to do this." Gilbert extended his hand once more, prepared to jump forward and catch Matthew if he jumped.

Matthew looked him up and down a few times, his eyes cautious.

He then took Gilbert's hand. Gilbert immediately pulled him violently over the ledge, causing the Canadian to land on the ground flat on his back.

Gilbert climbed over him. "By the great Fritz! What the hell are you playing at? Give me a heart attack, why don't you!" he yelled, shaking the blonde by the collar.

"Please don't hit me!" Matthew cried, covering his face.

"What? Hit you?" Gilbert let him go, wondering why this boy would say such a thing. Who would hit a kid right after he tried to jump off a bridge? "I'm not gonna hit you, kid. You just scared the life out of me." Gilbert stood up, and held out his hand to help Matthew up. Matthew took it.

"No, I'm not letting you get away that easily." Gilbert picked up his backpack, pulling out a notebook and a pencil. He scribbled something, tore out the paper, and handed it to Matthew. "You have a cell phone, right?" Matthew nodded. "With texting?" Another nod. "Good. You're gonna text me every night, then."

Matthew gasped. "E-every night?"

"Yeah. No excuses. And you can't say no. You owe me. I just saved your life."

"Why are you doing this?" Matthew questioned as Gilbert donned his backpack and prepared to leave.

Gilbert thought about that. "Because I can. And the name's Gilbert."

And then the silver-haired boy just walked away, leaving Matthew to wonder who this angel was.

Matthew texted him that night as prescribed. They had a conversation that lifted Matthew's heart in ways he didn't know were possible. Gilbert asked why he had wanted to kill himself, and Matthew found himself pouring his heart out to this person he had just met. He decided it was too much information to text, so he called.

"It's a lot of things," he explained. "Mostly my family. My papa is the only one who seems to recognize me, but he's always so busy at work. My brother is such a problem kid, but everyone always mistakes me for him and takes it out on me. Not to mention Dad likes him better."

"Dad? I thought you called him Papa?" Gilbert questioned.

"Oh yeah. I have two dads. They're gay. My papa is French, and my dad is British, so they fight a lot. And my dad is more like a mom, the way he nags."

Gilbert snickered at that. "Anyway, why do you say that your dad likes Alfred better? For that matter, how could anyone like Alfred better? He's kind of a prick."

Matthew laughed, then sighed. "Dad doesn't think so. Alfred is a football star, and is always bringing home cute girls. He's totally normal, especially his grades."

"How can that idiot get good grades?"

"He doesn't. He gets straight C's."

"Oh. Wow. Anyway."

"Anyway, I'm just the outcast. Always getting in fights for Alfred's sake. But Dad doesn't know that; he thinks I pick the fights. Plus I've never brought home a girl, and never will."

"Come on, Mattie. You're a good-looking guy—."

"That's not what I mean. Um, I don't want to bring girls home."

"Why not?"

"Umm." There was a long pause. "I'm like my parents."

"What—OH!" Prussia face palmed at his own stupidity. "Sorry about that. I'm a bit slow sometimes."

"You—you're not disgusted?"

"No."

"You're not gonna call me a fag or anything?"

"No."

"…I don't believe you."

"Okay, if you're gonna be like that, then I'll just say it. I'm gay too."

"Oh."

"Hey, can we talk tomorrow? There's something I have to do."

"No!" Matthew couldn't help but say. "I mean, can you just call me right back? I… I can't be alone right now."

"Oh. No problem. Just give me five minutes."

He called back, as promised. He always kept his promises. That made Matthew feel special, like someone felt that he was worth something.

One day, the two were hanging out at Gilbert's house after school. That was the day Matthew realized how much he needed Gilbert.

Gilbert's phone went off, and he excused himself to answer it. "What's up, Luddy?" he answered the phone. "Geez! It's always nag, nag, nag with you…"

Nag? Matthew felt his heart drop. Was he talking to his boyfriend? He should have known better than to think that he could attain happiness. That just wasn't possible.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do it!" Gilbert sighed into the phone, exasperated. "Love you too, ass!" he added sarcastically before hanging up. He turned to Matthew. "Hey, sorry about that. He never leaves me alone. Not for a minute. He's on his way home."

"Oh," Matthew sighed, not looking Gilbert in the eye. "He lives with you?"

"Oh right! I didn't tell you about Ludwig! He's my bruder." Gilbert stood up and picked up his laundry basket. "He's two years younger than us, and quite the pain in the ass. Been a woman since our mom left. Can you help me with the laundry? He nagged me to do it."

Matthew stood up, relieved.

"Your mom left you guys?" Matthew asked.

"Yeah. About four years ago. I'm glad she's gone, but Luddy took it hard. She was quite the drunk. She'd go on these rampages. She liked him better, so she'd just let me take his beatings." They had reached the laundry room, and Gilbert put down his laundry basket and pulled up the sleeve of his tee shirt, revealing several small, round scars on his muscular shoulder. "She smoked, too," was his only explanation. Horrified, Matthew's hand flew up to his mouth. Neither said a word as Gilbert proceeded to start his load of laundry.

As if to break the silence, Matthew's phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered.
"Oh, mon Mathieu!" rang his father's voice.

"Papa! I thought you were busy today?" Matthew said, overjoyed to hear his papa's voice for the first time in a week.

"Non, I will be home soon. And I will be making dinner, so you won't have to eat your Dad's horrible excuse of a meal."

"Um, Papa?" Matthew whispered timidly. "Is it okay if I have a friend with me?"

"Of course, Mathieu."

"I'll see you when I get home, Papa."

Matthew got off the phone and looked shyly up at Gilbert. "Would you… like to have dinner with me and my family?" At Gilbert's surprised stare, he hastily added, "My Papa owns a chain of four-star restaurants, and he's very good—"

Matthew was cut off by Gilbert's hand in his. "Say no more. It would be awesome."

Matthew just nodded, and Gilbert withdrew his hand. Matthew blurted, "Are you seeing anyone?"

"No. I'm too awesome for commitment. Why?"

"Just curious." Matthew felt elated, like his heart was a giant balloon that had just taken flight.

"What about you, birdie?"

"Oh, no. I have the occasional girl mistake me for Al and kiss me. It's very awkward explaining after that. It never ends well." Matthew shuddered at the memories of his countless encounters with Alfred's heartbroken/rage-filled ex girlfriends.

"Why does he put you through it all?" Gilbert asked, his teeth gritted and not looking Matthew in the eye.

Matthew sighed. "He doesn't know. He's honestly too oblivious to see that he gets all the glory only because I take all his beatings. I don't correct my parents when they think I pick fights."

Gilbert was visibly seething. "I don't like it, Matthew." Matthew started at Gilbert's first use of his name, and the serious voice in which it was uttered. "I don't like seeing the cuts and bruises. Not for that asshole."

"Al's not an asshole. He just doesn't realize…"

Gilbert was silent, and the front door opened. Gilbert plastered on what Matthew knew was a fake smile and shot up. When Ludwig came into the room, Gilbert put him in a headlock and gave him a noogie.

"Bruder!" Gilbert cried with glee as Matthew just stared incredulously at the sight and Ludwig struggled to get out of the headlock.

Ludwig then flipped Gilbert over his shoulder. Gilbert landed flat on his back, laughing. "You're getting good, bruder. Maybe next time I won't take it easy on you."

"Humph," was Ludwig's reply. Ludwig then looked sheepishly at Matthew while Gilbert stood up and brushed himself off. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize Gilbert had someone over."

"Yeah…" Matthew whispered, his voice dropping instantly.

"This is Matthew!" Gilbert proclaimed. Ludwig extended a hand.

"A pleasure," he said stiffly, shaking his hand. "You look like someone I know…"

"Alfred Jones. He's my brother," Matthew explained.

"Ve~ Gilbert!" a voice called from the other room and a short boy with auburn hair ran in, hugging Gilbert.

"Feli! Luddy didn't tell me you'd be over!" Gilbert cried, hugging the Italian boy and lifting him into the air.
"Mmhmm! I'm making you guys dinner tonight!" Feli beamed, never opening his eyes.

"Sorry, but it's just going to be you and Ludwig. I'm going to Matthew's for dinner tonight."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow as Feli nodded. "Okay~! Don't be too late!"

"I won't. I'll make sure to come home and talk to you." Gilbert grabbed his jacket, and took Matthew by the arm. "We'll be going now."

"Ve~ nice to meet you, Matthew!" Feliciano called before wrapping his arms around Ludwig and nuzzling into said boy's neck. Ludwig blushed, but just waved goodbye to Gilbert and Matthew.

The two climbed in Gilbert's car and Matthew smiled. "Was that Ludwig's… um…"

"Yeah, Ludwig has a boyfriend. Stole him from me," he joked. "I had a monster crush on Feli after Elizaveta and I broke up and I came out. But Feli had a thing for my brother, so I helped him get Ludwig."

"That's sweet," Matthew giggled, buckling his seatbelt. I only ever laugh when I'm with you, he realized.

"Yeah. I know a lost cause when I see one. Besides, you saw how great they are together. They're going on two years now."

"Wow. I've never really had a lasting relationship. The closest I came was with Ivan…"

"Ivan?" Gilbert asked, starting the car. "You dated that Russian asshole?"

"Yeah. It… I don't like to talk about it."

"I can see why not. Ivan's a bit of a prick."

Matthew felt his eyes stinging with tears at the memories of his relationship with Ivan. "My parents started asking questions when I had more cuts than usual."

Gilbert froze, horrified. "He… he didn't…?" he couldn't bring himself to finish the question.

"Ivan was… troubled. And I was his 'escape'," Matthew explained.

Gilbert nodded stiffly. He then turned and hugged Matthew tightly. "I'll never forgive that asshole. First me, then Ludwig, and now you."

The tears threatened to spill over in Matthew's eyes, and Matthew tried to keep them back. He returned the embrace, feeling whole in a way that he never imagined possible.

Gilbert pulled away much too soon for Matthew, and rubbed the blonde's cheek with his thumb. He caught a tear, and wiped it away. "Don't cry," he cooed. "It hurts me."

Matthew nodded, pulling his face away to wipe away the tears. Gilbert fastened his seat belt and backed out of the driveway. The rest of the drive was spent in silence. However, Matthew's house was full of noise when they walked in.

"For God's sake, Alfred, turn off the damned TV!" Matthew heard his dad yell. "And do your homework!"

"Come on, Dad!" Alfred pleaded. "Just five minutes left!"

"Fine, but then you're doing your Algebra!"

"I'm home," Matthew called weakly, with no hope of anyone hearing him.

Gilbert rolled his eyes and called, "Oi, Jones!"

Alfred rounded the corner to the foyer, and grinned ear to ear. "Hey, Beilschmidt. Mattie! I didn't see you got home."

"I just got here…" Matthew mumbled, wanting to disappear.

"Yeah, your, um, Papa said I could chill for dinner," Gilbert said, wrapping his arm around Matthew's shoulders. The blonde blushed scarlet.

Alfred nodded, oblivious. "Cool. I'm watching the last five minutes of a Packers and Colts game. See you guys in a bit." With that, he left. Matthew reluctantly slinked out of Gilbert's grasp and led him to the kitchen.

"Dad?" Matthew called in a whisper. "I have a friend over…"

"Oh, hi," the Briton said distractedly from the sink, where he was filling a pot with water.

"Um, Dad? Papa said he was going to cook…"

"Yes, I know that. He called and asked me to boil the water for him." Arthur then took the pot to the stove and turned on the burner. Wiping his hands on his apron, he smiled politely at Gilbert. "I'm Matthew's father. Call me Arthur," he insisted, extending a hand.

Gilbert shook it. "I'm Gilbert. I have Pre-Cal with Matthew. We're recent friends."

"That's good. Matthew hardly comes home, let alone brings friends with him," Arthur sighed, relieved.

"Dad…" Matthew pleaded for him to shut up in a murmur.

"Anyway, have you gotten your homework done?" Arthur asked Matthew.

"Gilbert and I got our stuff done at his house," Matthew offered a small smile.

"Good boy. I never have to chase after you, unlike your brother. Speaking of which, excuse me." Arthur strode from the room, and by the sound of Alfred's cry of pain Matthew knew his Dad had turned off the TV prematurely.

Matthew took the opportunity to lead Gilbert to his room, which he picked up for his Papa's arrival.

"Your dad seems nice," Gilbert commented.

"That's because Papa is coming home," Matthew explained. "He's really excited. We haven't seen him in a week. He's always so busy, and he's been in France for a while to study new recipes. Dad is always insufferable when Papa has been gone."

Gilbert lied down on Matthew's bed. "Still, it's nice that he's being good to you, even if it won't last."

"If you say so." The front door opened, and Matthew heard a voice call out in French. "Papa's home! Come on," he said, pulling Gilbert unceremoniously out of bed by the hand, rushing to the foyer. When he got there, he saw his Dad in his Papa's arms, smiling brightly. Upon seeing Matthew, Francis kissed the Briton's forehead and released him.

"Mathieu!" He cried, his arms open. Matthew ran into them.

"Papa! I've missed you!" he exuberated, hugging the Frenchman tightly. He pulled away, and went to Gilbert, who was standing in the doorway. Pulling his forward by the hand, he presented him proudly to his Papa. "This is my friend, Gilbert."

Francis smiled warmly, shaking Gilbert's hand. "I'm Francis, Matthew's father."

"Nice to meet you," Gilbert said sincerely.

"Nice to meet you as well. Now, if you'll excuse us," Francis said, wrapping an arm around Arthur's waist, "we've got a meal to cook." With that, the two adults left, laughing.

Matthew and Gilbert returned to Matthew's room to wait for dinner, and Gilbert once again flung himself into Matthew's bed.

"Your Papa looks awesome," Gilbert commented.

Matthew beamed. "I know. I love him so much. I can't stand when he's gone."

"I can tell," Gilbert chuckled.

As Matthew and Gilbert chatted, they could hear Matthew's parents in the kitchen. Occasionally, Arthur would throw a sarcastic comment at his lover, and Francis would laugh boomingly before quipping. Even with his tsundere manner, Arthur could not hold back his utter joy at seeing Francis.

When Francis called the kids for dinner, Matthew bounced up. Gilbert had not known that Matthew could be so happy. Ever since he met the kid, Matthew had always been depressive. Gilbert hated seeing him in pain, but he thought that maybe sadness was all that Matthew knew. But seeing this had opened his eyes to a whole new Matthew.

At the table, Alfred casually greeted his Papa, having never been close of affectionate towards the Frenchman. As everyone began to eat, Arthur and Francis exchanged affectionate glances as Alfred just stuffed his face. Matthew was too happy to let his brother's sloppiness bother him.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Francis interrupted the silence casually, "you know my assistant, Sesel?"

"Yes, I remember her," Arthur affirmed, still staring deeply into his French lover's eyes.

"Well, she has decided to move to France. She's marrying a baker she met a while back."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Matthew said honestly. "She's such a nice woman."

"Mm," Francis agreed, sipping his wine. "She promised to keep in touch. Oh, and she's offered to keep me updated on the latest trends in foods in France."

Matthew and Arthur nodded with interest. Alfred looked up from his plate inquisitively.

"Doesn't that mean that you don't need to go to France anymore?" he asked. Matthew and Arthur perked up, mildly surprised that Alfred had been the one to make the connection.

"That means I won't be going to France anymore. Not without my family," Francis affirmed, smiling and taking Arthur's hand.

Matthew positively beamed. "You mean it? You'll be staying here?" Francis nodded, and Arthur looked as though he would cry from happiness.

"I'm so happy," Arthur said softly. "The boys have been doing well. Tell him, Alfred, Matthew."

"Meh. I have a B in Algebra," was all Alfred offered.

"I've been doing well," Matthew added modestly.

Arthur took the chance to talk to Francis. "Matthew's grades are great, as always. Straight As. And he hasn't had any run-ins with the office."

Gilbert spoke for the first time, seizing his opportunity. "What, you didn't tell them about today?" he asked Matthew loud enough for everyone to hear.

Arthur's face fell as he took his hand from Francis. "What about today, Matthew?"

Matthew cursed Gilbert for ruining this piece of happiness. "Well… I had a problem with someone. But it was resolved," he added hastily.

"I wouldn't say so. Ishmael was about to crack your head open before I showed up," Gilbert piped in.

"Ishmael?" Alfred asked with a serious voice. "What about the filthy Cuban?"

"He managed to get away before I could get to him. He escaped with Matthew's lunch money." Gilbert leaned in to talk as though it was just he and Alfred talking. "But I shared mine. So it's all good."

"I'd say it's far from good," Arthur disagreed, a frown coming over his face as he looked to Francis for support.

Francis sighed. "Mathieu, you have to stop picking fights. You're such a nice boy at home. I don't understand why you act so differently at school."

"Picking fights?" Gilbert asked innocently. "I'd say it's more like he gets bullied."

Arthur stared at him incredulously. "Excuse me?"

"Well, Matthew didn't provoke Ishmael," Gilbert explained. When Matthew looked at him questioningly, he gave him a look that said, Trust me. "Ishmael just kind of… attacked him. Said something about a 'stupid jock'."

Alfred dropped his fork, and it clanged on his plate. "Wait… Ishmael was attacking you because of me?"

"Well, yes—I mean, no!—I—" At his family's confused stares, and Gilbert's encouraging one, he sighed. "He thought I was you, Al. That's why he bothers me."

"Wait, so every fight with Ishmael… it was because of me?" Alfred asked, hurt.

"Yes." Matthew did not look up from his lap.

"Oh, Mathieu… why did you not tell us?" Francis asked in a low voice filled with concern.

"I didn't want you guys to know. You guys are so proud of Al. How he's so popular. I didn't want you to know that it was because I take his fights."

"Wait," Alfred said, pushing his plate aside. "Have all the fights been about me?"

Matthew nodded.

"Matthew?" Arthur asked. "Matthew, please look at me."

Matthew lifted his chin to meet his dad's eyes.

"Matthew, you don't have to lie to us. You're a good kid… we were so worried that the fighting would ruin you. We didn't understand why you would ever want to fight anyone. And we wanted to help you. Please, please do not lie to us anymore."

Matthew nodded, tears in his eyes.

"Yeah, Mattie," Alfred chimed in. "I can stick up for myself. If you haven't noticed, I'm bigger than you. And more aggressive." Alfred gave his brother a thumbs-up and a wide grin. "I'll keep them off your case. I already beat up Ivan for you."

"That was for Matthew?" Arthur asked, surprised at his son's sense of honor.

"Hell yeah, it was! Ivan was a total jerk to Mattie! And nobody messes with my twin!"

There was a small silence of resolution, and Gilbert stood up.

"Please excuse me," he said awkwardly, "bathroom."

When he returned, the family he had left in silence had become whole, happy. They smiled and laughed and joked with one another. And under the table, where not one could see, Matthew took Gilbert's hand for a few minutes.

When dinner was over, Gilbert announced that he had to be getting home. Alfred, Arthur, and Francis said their goodbyes to him.
"Come over any time," Arthur offered. "I need a break from all of Alfred's football friends."

Francis shook his hand once more. "Thank you very much for helping Mathieu to explain everything to us. We owe you more than I can say."

"It's fine, really," Gilbert assured him.

Francis nodded, and went back to his seat next to Arthur.

Alfred nodded at Gilbert. "See you in gym, Beilschmidt."

Gilbert nodded back. "Jones."

Matthew saw Gilbert to his car. Once outside, Matthew smiled at Gilbert. "Thanks for that," he said.

"It's cool. It's what friends are for, all that crap," Gilbert said casually, staring past Matthew.

"Still. It means a lot to me."

Gilbert nodded. "Well, Feli will be upset if I don't get back in time to see him."

"Yeah, you should get to him," Matthew agreed.

Gilbert met Matthew's eyes, red into purple, cocky into insecure, piercing to the center of Matthew's existence. "Well, goodnight," he said, his eyes still burning into Matthew's.

Matthew found himself unable to look away. And this was when he realized he had never truly looked into Gilbert's eyes. He would always look away if their eyes happened to meet. He had been so afraid to let Gilbert in, to let him see inside. But now that Gilbert had seen everything, had fixed everything, Matthew decided that Gilbert's eyes just felt right when they looked into his.

Matthew smiled. "Goodnight," he returned, but didn't move.

Gilbert found his hand on Matthew's cheek before he could tell it not to move. Shyly, hesitantly, his thumb caressed Matthew's cheek. Matthew's head leaned into the touch, longing it. Matthew's eyes closed to enjoy the moment, gently placing his hand on Gilbert's. His eyes opened again to meet Gilbert's, and he could see the underlying passion. Then, slowly, unsurely, Gilbert leaned forward until his lips were a centimeter from Matthew's. Matthew closed the space between them, kissing Gilbert sweetly, chastely. He wrapped his arms around Gilbert's neck, pulling him closer, and Gilbert relocated his hands from Matthew's cheek to the small of Matthew's back. Matthew broke the kiss, just turning his face downward. He did not move any further away from Gilbert. Gilbert took this opportunity to kiss Matthew's forehead, and then nuzzled his cheek against Matthew's forehead.

"Come over tomorrow?" was all Gilbert had to say.

Matthew shyly laughed. "I thought you said you were too awesome for commitment?"

Leaning against his car, Gilbert hugged Matthew even tighter. "Yeah. But I'll never be awesome enough for you."

Matthew looked Gilbert in the eye with a small smile. "I'll be the judge of that."

Gilbert answered with a grin, and gave Matthew one more peck. He then pulled out of Matthew's grasp and hopped in his car. "Tomorrow, you better come over! Or else I'll come get you!"

Matthew giggled, stepping away from the car as it roared to life. "You don't have to force me." As Gilbert fastened his seatbelt, Matthew interjected, "Wait! Does this make me, like… your boyfriend?"

Gilbert looked contemplative, then grinned. "Yep. And there's nothing you can do about it!" He then put his car in reverse and backed out of Matthew's driveway. Matthew waved at him as he drove away.

"MATTIE'S GOT A BOYFRIEND!" was the first thing Matthew heard when he went back inside. It was Alfred who had said it.

"SHUT UP!" Matthew called back, grinning nonetheless.

"I saw it aaaaall! You kissed him and everything!" Alfred taunted, dodging a punch from Matthew, who had entered the room.

"Shut up! Or I'll eat all your spaghetti-Os!" Matthew threatened playfully.

"You wouldn't!" Alfred said with only half-faked horror. Matthew took off for the kitchen, and Alfred jumped up to stop him. He tackled Matthew in the doorway to the kitchen, and the two boys wrestled and laughed for the first time since they were ten.

"Boys! Stop fighting!" Arthur cried, stepping forward. Francis caught him by the wrist, pulling the Briton into his arms once more.

"No, Arthur," he disagreed, "let them have their fun. Things are finally back to normal around here."

A/N: FIN! Lol I haven't been writing lately, so I decided I had to do SOMETHING. So I played some music and wrote this one. I was feeling the PruCan when "Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence came on. XD
Anyway, I've been so busy with school that I haven't had time to write. Three AP classes… and I'm only a junior! It's been pretty stressful.

So, I hope you enjoyed this random story!