This is based off on true events. Genders and names have been changed to suit the fandom.

Dedicated to my beautiful, straight-A, little sister, whom more people should appreciate.
Have some sibling fluff.

At first I thought it was the wind blowing through my open window, or some kind of mutant bug that wanted to keep me from my rest. But it was neither. I didn't expect to hear Mattie crying though. He's a sweet kid; good looking, top of his class at most things. He's intelligent. He sounds a lot older than he is because he's so smart. I always try to remember that he's just a kid, but it's weird how kids suddenly sprout up into tiny people when you're not looking.

After I'd dismissed my mutant bug theory, I asked quietly (even if our dads do live of the other freaking side of the house),

"Hey, Mattie, are you okay?" I thought he was sniffing. Was he sick? It was hay fever season, and his sinuses could get stuffed up really badly.

I couldn't hear what he said.

"Mattie?" another pathetic little sniffle.

I got up, padding through the moonlight to his side of the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, "Hey, Matt, what's up?" I put a hand on his shoulder, but he just shrugged it off.

"Go away, Alfred," he sniffed into his pillow, his face turned away from me.

"Matt? … Are you crying?" I asked slowly, completely bewildered. He was such a strong kid. More mature than me, always scolding me, making sure that I looked after myself. My God, I haven't seen him cry in years. And hardly ever before that. Even when we used to fight so bad our parents thought we were going to tear each other's throats out, I barely ever saw him cry.

"I said go away!" His voice was thick with tears, and I wondered how I hadn't noticed them before.

"Mattie, please, tell me what's wrong," I pleaded. So I was kind of a shitty brother. I teased him, I ignored him, I snapped at him a lot. But he was my little brother and he was upset. So I may be a shit person to him most of the time, but if you fuck with my brother. If you make him cry. If he doesn't like the way you look at him. If he doesn't like the way you dress. I. Will. End. You.

It's probably unhealthy to be so Mama-Bearish of your little brother, I don't give a fuck. That probably makes me some kind of glorified attack dog. But Mattie's never set me on anyone before.

"No."

"Please, Mattie. I want to help," I said, shifting closer to him. Close enough to see the puffiness of his eyes when he looked up at me.

"God, Alfred, just leave me alone! You couldn't help anyway! You're popular and you have loads of friends. Do you know that people actually try and bribe me to leave them alone? Of course you don't! You don't even know what it's like; you're the school jock! People take through me, Al! They talk about me like I'm not even there, and they're not saying anything nice! I have no friends, Alfred. None. I spend break time doing extra-credit work. I hate my life. I want to be someone else so badly. I just want one friend, is that too much to ask?"

I was stunned. The look of angered misery on his face was so acute. This must have been going on for ages. Why didn't he tell me? I'm his big brother. Maybe I can't do anything about it, but I can be there for him.

"Yeah, I do know what it's like," I said quietly, "Remember when I was overweight and I stayed home a lot? It was because everyone made fun of me in gym class. I couldn't take it. I was depressed, I was miserable. God, I even cut a few times," that wasn't my proudest moment, that's for sure and his eyes widened in the darkness.

"So that's…?" he said, soft voice quieter than usual as he stretched out a hand, fingertips tracing the broad line of puffy, pale scar tissue that drew a gaping mouth across my bicep. Why had I worn a tank top to bed, again? The cut itself hadn't been too serious, but once I started putting on muscle mass, the scar had stretched with my skin. It was a horrible reminder of how times used to be, but also of how I had changed for the better.

"Yeah. But then I hit high school. I had a motherfucker of a growth spurt and I started working out obsessively. I tried out for sports teams and I got on. It's not hard to be popular. But with you, it's different."

Whoops, I could have phrased that differently. His face, which had held an incredulous sort of hope, fell.

"Because you play hockey like a boss – I have seen you single-handedly win your games, bro. You kick academic ass – what are you, top of the class? And if you'll take my creeper opinion, you're damn good looking. Give you a few years and you'll be smokin'. No joke. But if you actually do start smoking, I'm going to have to hurt you."

Thank God Almighty! Laughter! Even if it was just a wet chuckle. It was good to hear him laugh again. But just as soon as it was there, it was gone, replaced by wracking sobs.

"Hey there," I said, pulling him into my arms, cradling him against my chest as I gently rubbed his back – fuck off. So maybe that was kind of gay, but my baby brother was crying. Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same thing, "It's going to be okay, Mattie. It'll be alright, I swear."

"It's – God, it's just so hard!" he complained damply into my shirt. But that's okay. It was Mattie.

"I know it is. But you're brilliant. You are. And if those jerks are too dumb to see it, it's their loss. You've still got me, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Hero's honour," I raised my right hand. It was a stupid habit I'd picked up as a kid, but it made my brother smile, and that was the whole point of this exercise.

I made to move a little, and he clung all the tighter to me, but he didn't say anything, which just made my heart ache. He's a strong kid, and he knows it. He's proud, too. Too proud. Too afraid of seeming weak to ask for help when he wants it.

"Hey, Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiku roped me into watching this really messed up movie about possession the other day. I'm .. I'm still a little freaked. D'you think I could stay here?" He knew what I was doing. It was midterms. I hadn't seen Kiku in at least three weeks. Besides. Movies about demonic possession weren't scary. Demons I can handle. Ghosts? Ghosts freak me the fuck out.

Without a word, he scooted over to make space. I lay down, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him close. Matt snuggled against me. So maybe a five year age-gap didn't warrant this, I don't care. He's my baby brother. The rest of you can fuck off and die.

"You'll stay with me, won't you, Al?" he murmured sleepily against my shoulder, a few tears still falling hotly against my skin.

"Always. You'll always have me."

"'love you."

"Love you, too, bro."

I hope you enjoyed it!