Next chapter. I know that they've pretty much all sucked up to now, but you cna expect to see high-quality angst from hereonin. Suggestions are more than welcome.
"Hey," Matthew said from the doorway of the den. Alfred looked up in surprise, for he hadn't actually expected Matthew to come around so quickly. He had enough fights with his brother to know that he could stay isolated from him for days on end before saying a word of reparation towards him. "We need to get this sorted out before Dad gets home."
"Okay," Alfred said nonplused. Matthew swept into the room, and sat down in front of Alfred. His shoulders were bunched in and his face was downturned. There was an awkward silence.
"I'm not a boy."
The statement was mumbled to his shoes more than to his brother, but Alfred heard perfectly.
"That's ridiculous. Of course you're a boy. Just 'cause you happen to swing that way doesn't mean you're not."
Of course, after the initial shock, Alfred found that he was perfectly alright with having a gay brother. There was nothing wrong with that at all. He knew Matthew his entire life, after all. It wasn't like this would change too much.
"No, I'm not. I mean, I look like one, but..." Matthew trailed off, frustrated. "I'm not a drag queen, Alfred. Even though I look like one when I put on makeup." This last part was said in a resentful undertone.
"So you're not gay?" Alfred said, in an effort to change the subject.
"Well... no. I like boys but I'm not gay."
Alfred tried hard to wrap his head around that one and gave up. This situation was too bizarre for anything to really stick in his head.
"Sounds an awful lot like denial, bro."
"For Christ's sake, Alfred. I'm a girl."
Matthew turned dark red after the words left his mouth.
"At least, that's what I'm supposed to be," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd... I hoped... you won't tell anyone, will you?"
"You think you're a girl?" Alfred clarified, and immediately regretted it.
"I don't think anything," Matthew said coldly, and stood, signifying that this conversation was finished. "Don't tell anyone. Especially not Dad. He's going to be pissed enough when he finds out that I'm not planning anything for post-secondary."
"I won't tell."
Though Matthew looked distinctly unimpressed, Alfred hadn't felt this sincere about anything since they were kids and watched each other's backs all the time, even for the msot trivial things. What happened? Why didn't they do that any more?
"You don't understand me," Matthew said quietly.
"I might not understand, but I'll keep your secret all the same. Look Matt, we're twins. I've known you my whole life."
"Not as well as you think."
"What does that mean?"
Matthew faltered at the door, as though he wanted to say more, but then shook his head to himself and left.
I`m actually wondering about how you feel about Matthew being in a relationship. Are there any people you would rather have him paired with? I've been thinking Cuba, because my usual stand-by France is otherwise occupied in the plot.
You are not sucking at all, anon! And I have to admit, if any of my brothers ever said anything like what Mattie said, my response would probably be like Alfred's. I'd never even heard of transgender until recently, and only because of this fandom. So aside from really enjoying this fill, I'm hoping that reading it will educate me a little more about this whole thing.
And as someone whose native language isn't English either, I completely understand where you're coming from regarding the pronouns! Hahahah.
Several weeks went by. Alfred still did not completely understand, but he was more used to the idea that his brother was someone else, someone more true to himself, when nobody was looking. And really, who wasn't? Everybody had a part of themselves that they kept from everyone, even the people world. It just seemed like the part Matthew had to keep secret was bigger than most people's.
Matthew still didn't tell Alfred everything about himself; there were certain things he knew not to talk about if he didn't want to scare off his brother for good. He did speak at length about his hopes for the future, a little slice of heaven in suburbia somewhere with a husband who would love him as he was and yes, even a child.
He didn't tell Alfred how much it hurt to know that even if he went through with the surgery, he would never bear children. He didn't tell Alfred about the time when he had simply tried to do away with that part of him that was male, when he was too young to understand that wasn't the only thing that differentiated him from the normal girls.
Alfred was not ready for all that. He wasn't even ready for Matthew to wear something moderately more flattering than his usual jeans and hoodie.
"Hey Matt," Alfred said one day over a bag of peanut M&Ms.
"Yeah?"
"What's your name when you're... not Matthew?"
"Madeleine," Matthew said. "But if it makes you feel less awkward, Maddie's fine. I'd rather not be called Matt or Matthew anymore, now that you know."
"All right. That's the least I can do, considering you're the only reason I'm passing English this year."
"I don't know how you can fail English in the first place, bro. Dad would shit bricks if he knew," Matthew smiled.
"Well, damn good thing he doesn't," Alfred shuddered. Though he knew Matthew's secrets were probably more earth-shaking than his, the idea of being suspended from his cell phone for at least a month while he went through English bootcamp with his father was a really terrifying thought.
Meanwhile, the house next door was finally being occupied. Matthew had watched from the property line as the moving vans came and the boxes filed into that house. Finally, a lime-green Smartcar pulled into the driveway and the occupants of the house stepped out.
He was completely gorgeous, his golden hair tied back in a loose queue. It was a pity he was wearing such dark designer glasses, because Matthew wanted to see his eyes. There was something unrepentantly French about him, and it was nice to see a guy who cared about his looks enough to have designer casual wear on, albeit all in monochrome.
Pity he was about Dad's age.
She was around Matthew's age, though she seemed far younger, and her dark hair was tied into two cutesie pigtails. She wore a pretty dress that wasn't quite as flashy as her companion's clothing, and white sneakers with bright blue laces.
They spoke in hushed French, he cheerfully rustling her hair. Matthew, though he was good at French, found their dialect a bit different from the Quebecois he had been learning and therefore quite hard to follow.
"Hi," Matthew said timidly from the fence. He looked in Matthew's direction and smiled, a perfect white smile that almost glittered.
"Good evening!" he returned, his accent quite apparent even with this simple greeting. "We're the new neighbours. I am Francis Bonnefoy, and this is my daughter, Michelle."
Matthew nodded.
"My name's Maddie," he said, deliberately pronouncing the 'd' a bit hard so it sounded like Mattie as well. Francis beamed.
"Wonderful. Michelle was anxious that she wouldn't have any girls her age to play with. N'est-ce-pas, Michelle?"
"Papa, ce n'est pas une fi..."
"Would you kindly show her around town? I doubt she really wants to stay in this little 'ouse when there's so much to explore."
"O-okay," Matthew said, and hopped the fence to walk down the driveway with Michelle, unsure if he had heard correctly. Francis had totally figured out he was a girl, within five seconds of knowing him. Couldn't he see Matthew's too-broad shoulders, his slender hips, his Adam's apple...?
"Why didn't you tell him you're a boy?" Michelle asked when they were out of earshot.
"He called me a girl?" Matthew said absently. Michelle rolled her eyes.
"Yes. Are you stoned? He totally did. I guess he had to go by your voice, though. My papa's blind," Michelle muttered.
"Oh. I'm sorry," Matthew said.
"You shouldn't be. You're not the one who threw acid in his eyes," Michelle said shortly. There was an awkward silence. "Shit. This is why I don't have friends."
"I didn't tell him I was a boy 'cause I'm not," Matthew said, simultaneous to Michelle's admission. They both raised their eyebrows in confusion, and stopped in the street.
I really liked this part. I like that Alfred is slowly coming around but it's a process and I loved your description of Matthew trying to figure out how much to tell him.
Oh and I'm delighted to meet Francis and I can't wait to see how Matthew and Michelle's relationship unfolds.
Oh wow, as much as Ilove this part for showing others starting to accept Matthew as Maddie, I can't help but wonder what happened with Francis to cause such a thing! I hope you explain it ;~;
Awww, I really like that last part! Especially the start of their friendship line, and awww at Michelle saying she didn't have friends~ All in all, I think this fic is brilliant. I really like the whole take you did with this. Also I really your Alfred, and I really like that even though he doesn't understand he keeps his brother's secret~ Yay for the new chapter, and please update soon!
Sorry, blind!France is a bit of a kink of mine -isshot-, and there's actually a conversation on loss and missing things that will make that part of him make sense in this context.
Matthew wondered why he had never thought to get a friend of the female persuasion before this time. Now it seemed glaringly obvious that such a friend was a benefit to him. For one thing, Michelle could get certain necessaries from the store without drawing unwanted attention to herself. Matthew could even accompany her, to a certain extent. If he showed too much interest in what she was buying, he would likely be labelled as gay. And he wasn't gay, he was straight. He didn't even want to think of how disappointing and confusing that might be to a guy who just wanted somebody to love.
Michelle knew what to do with make-up, knew how to hide his flaws with it in ways that the Internet hadn't been able to provide, and most of all she could talk to him as a girl. They had different ideas of what to do when they left high school, but Matthew could tell her in all confidence about the nuclear family in the little house he dreamed of, and she could listen with the sort of patience Matthew had hitherto only received from his brother, who didn't understand certain parts of what he was saying. Michelle got it almost immediately.
"You just want to be secure," she smiled. "Secure in your identity, and in everything. Papa's much the same now. That's why we moved here, so he could have a predictable life to live."
"What happened to your Dad?" Matthew asked curiously. Michelle sighed, and jiggled her knee anxiously.
"We don't really talk about it," she said simply, and brightened up. "Would you like some comfort food? I can make pancakes."
Matthew grinned from behind the purple pillow he had been squishing against his chest, and hopped up to join his friend.
"You're so cute!" Michelle smiled back, and ruffled Matthew's hair. "Have you ever tried pigtails?"
Matthew's nose wrinkled just slightly at this.
"Ew," he intoned. The dark girl crossed her arms and tapped her feet, and he had to explain himself further. "I don't have the right face for it. I'd look like a hooker."
There was a knock on the door, and Michelle just about skipped to the door to answer.
"Oh, hi Alfred!" she said in a mock-surprised tone. "What are you here for?"
"I'm here to ransom Maddie," Alfred said cheerfully. "Because I am screwed in about ten thousand ways for this English assignment."
"Well, if you didn't sleep through English class, then you wouldn't have that problem," Matthew said, poking Alfred on the forehead. His brother was getting good; he didn't even spare a confused glance at Matthew's powder-blue camisole and hip-hugging pyjama pants. Instead he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"Take mercy on your stupid brother, Mad'leine?" he said pleadingly. Matthew pouted, and turned to Michelle.
"What do you think?" she asked teasingly. Michelle grinned a wide Charlie Brown grin and her eyes rolled to the heavens.
"I think we're making pancakes, and your puppydog brother will scratch on the door if we don't let him in sooner or later," she said. "My dad won't mind."
"Thanks, Michelle," Alfred said with a smile. "And pancakes! I definitely need to crash more girls' nights in, huh?"
"Get your ass in here before people see me," Matthew snapped. Alfred obeyed, just as Francis walked by to the kitchen.
"I heard someone say pancakes, Michelle, and if you think I'm letting you get close to the stove alone after what happened with the blender..." he started calmly. "Hello, Alfred."
"How do you know it's me?" Alfred said, overawed.
"Adorable, really," Francis said drily. "Michelle, help me with the batter. Alfred must be truly desperate to track down his sister here for school help."
"Maddie, how is it that Michelle's dad knows you're a girl before our dad knows?" Alfred asked in an undertone as they sat at the kitchen table with his English texts.
"I didn't tell him, if that's what you're saying," Matthew said, blushing to his ears. "He thought I was a girl right off the bat."
"It doesn't really matter how he knows, Madd. But Dad's still Dad, and sooner or later he's going to find out. He has to."
Matthew swallowed drily and nodded. He knew that he was only postponing that day when he would have to tell his father everything, but he still wasn't ready. What would Dad do?
"It won't be that bad, Maddie. If you could tell me, then you can tell him. It's not like he'll turn you out of the house, and even if he does, Michelle could take you in..."
"Could you shut up and concentrate on your homework? What is it you're having trouble with?" Matthew said sharply.
Alfred sighed, and dropped the subject. This talk would have to wait.
Lately though, he had noticed that while Dad wanted more and more to talk to Matthew, the more and more he was being shut out. this might have been unintentional; Matthew was obviously concerned with many other things and probably didn't know the effect it was taking on others. But at the same time it was hard to see Dad come home and casually state that Matthew must be next door again. It was hard to see Dad try not to be too hurt when it was just the two of them in the house.
Alfred wondered when Matthew would finally get around to telling Dad the truth about himself. it probably wouldn't be today, or next week, but when would it be? When Matthew was two provinces away and fully out to everyone else in the world? Alfred loved his Dad, probably even more than Matthew, and he couldn't stand keeping secrets from him, though he had promised his brother he would.
He listened to his brother explain Death of a Salesman to him for the third time that month, and resolved that he would get Matthew to tell Dad the truth later this week.
"I really fucking hate you," Matthew said very calmly to his brother. "I hope you're happy."
To say that Alfred had never felt so guilty in his entire life was a huge understatement. Matthew's eyes were rimmed with red and Alfred could sense that the only thing keeping his brother from snapping and throttling him was the giant bowl of M&Ms balanced on his lap.
Alfred couldn't say anything. 'Sorry' was stuck in his throat and he just wanted to disappear from Matthew's silent rage.
Needless to say, enlightening their father on the subject of Matthew's gender had not gone well. Alfred had been ill-prepared to break the news to Dad, and pretty much set Matthew up for failure. Dad simply did not listen to what Alfred said, and most of what Matthew managed to say between tears of frustration. In his mind's eye, Alfred could still see their father sitting at the head of the table, cup of tea in hand, completely immovable.
"Are you just going to sit there?" Matthew asked. "Aren't you going to say anything? I wasn't ready to tell Dad. He's not ready to know, and I'll be surprised if he ever is now. Why'd you do that to me?"
Alfred could feel tears burning his eyes, and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He had never seen Matthew so upset before, and he couldn't believe that it was his fault.
"Do you know what it's like being in the wrong body?" Matthew finally burst out, as though he wanted to blot out Alfred's silence with his anger. "It's like trying to read a book in a language I don't understand. It's like peeling an orange and finding an apple. It's like..."
He broke off and stuffed a handful of M&Ms in his mouth, crunching in an almost comical way that didn't fadge with this situation. Alfred just stood there, vaguely aware that the doorframe was cutting into his back.
"It's like having a million pieces of a puzzle that don't match the picture on the box," he finally muttered. "And you know that some of the pieces will be missing even if you finish the puzzle as best as you can. That's what it's like, Alfred."
He was trying not to cry. Alfred could tell, even through the blurred vision that he had from his own failure not to do so.
"That's what I wanted to say to Dad," Matthew said. "He would have understood that. I've been trying to figure out how to make him understand for months. And now I won't get that chance. No matter what I tell him, he won't listen. He's like a wall know."
"I'm sorry," Alfred said quietly. His throat was so tight he doubted Matthew could hear him at all. But Matthew looked at him with dull violet eyes and said, "You've hurt so much of me."
He wasn't Madeleine right now, or at least he wasn't letting her out. She was locked in with the most horrible emotions, and for now Matthew was in full reign. That part that everyone could see, the part Alfred had seen for the longest time until he had gained Matthew's trust. Grey Matthew Kirkland instead of blue Madeleine.
Sobbing, Alfred slid down the doorframe. He let out all the grief that Matthew simply couldn't, and didn't notice as Matthew quietly closed the door and enclosed him in an apologetic hug.
Hi authornon, this is fantastic, and realistic, and I can only wish that my own family could have been even this communicative. There would have been a lot less pain. Congratulations Maddie and Alfred for talking about your feelings, even though you both fuck it up sometimes most of the time.
Arthur Kirkland had promised his wife on her deathbed that he would provide for their sons in every way they could.
"Dad?"
He had been 26, and Jenny would have been 24 by the summer's end. The next two months had seen Arthur grieving while trying to care for two babies. He had been given much-needed aid by his sympathetic aunt, but he knew that at some point he would have to care for his (their) children alone.
"Dad, I'm sorry."
He remembered how much Matthew looked like Jenny when he was little, how sombre and quiet he was in comparison to his rambunctious brother. Arthur always thought that Matthew knew he was missing a big part of his life; he'd only been mistaken when he thought that part was a mother.
"Please let me try to explain."
Again and again, he wished he could talk to Jenny, because speaking to her resentful sister over the phone was no replacement for the love of his life. But he wished he could ask Jenny about the children, what to do. He had been ready for children, but only with Jenny. God knows he did his best, and he was immoderately proud of his sons, but he knew someday he would be proven to have failed.
Matthew was watching him from across the table, his eyes shadowed as though he hadn't been sleeping and his hands clasped tightly together. He had a piece of toast in his hand, he must be just about ready to go to school.
"What do you want to explain, Matthew?" Arthur said with an oblivious smile. Matthew's shoulders slumped.
"Forget it," Matthew muttered, and pulled on his hoodie before stuffing his toast in his mouth. Arthur contemplated saying something to Matthew before he walked out, but didn't. He drank his tea, and then left for work.
Arthur remembered Jenny and the way she'd sing to her large belly and promise Arthur that the children wouldn't have his eyebrows. He remembered when they first met, on the steps of Oxford. She had been studying English Lit, and he Ancient Britons; it was love at first sight, even if she thought Beowulf was overrated.
He remembered the happy year they had lived together here in this very house before they decided to have children. How childishly sure Jenny was that she would have a boy and a girl, even when the ultrasounds were indicating two boys. She was beautiful when she was with child, like the sun and the moon all in one. She would sit in the overstuffed chair that she had to bring over from England for this exact reason and smile when Arthur brought her tea and told shooed the cat away from the upholstery. The chair was still in their living room, practically sacred to everyone who lived here.
He loved his sons, and of course he wanted to support Matthew through whatever phase this was. He wanted to understand, because he was desperate to keep Matthew close to him as long as he could. But he couldn't get his head around whatever it was Matthew was trying to tell him.
"What do I do, Jenny?" he asked softly. "What am I supposed to do?"
There was no answer, of course. He only ever heard Jenny in dreams, and only then in times of happiness and calm. Pouring the remainder of his tea down the sink, he wondered for yet another moment if he was cut out to be a parent and affirmed the realization that he definitely was not. He was forty-four, not getting any younger, and he had been masquerading as a good father for the last eighteen years.
Alfred was standing at the bottom of the stairs, wearing only a pair of ratty plaid pyjama bottoms. Arthur watched him disconnectedly as he took a carton of soya milk and drank straight from it.
"I'm going to be late at school today," Alfred said, wiping an off-white streak from his upper lip. "I've got football practice."
"You're on the team, then? Jolly good," Arthur said quietly. He wished that he didn't sound so disinterested. "Alfred..."
"Yeah?"
"How long has your brother been..."
He couldn't even finish the sentence. Part of his throat closed up and left him mute.
"Maddie's just as she's always been," Alfred said shortly. "And I'm sure she'd prefer it if you talked to her about it rather than me."
"But how long have you known about this without telling me?"
"It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have been the one to tell you in the first place," Alfred said, and turned to Arthur before going up the stairs. "She wants you to understand, not just to know. Talk to her."
He bounded upstairs to get dressed, and left without a word.
I think you express Arthur's confusion and fear really well in this chapter, I imagine what he is going through must be what a lot of parents with trans children go through in the beginning. I think Alfred is great here he's really starting to get it.
On a side note I'm dying for some FrUK in this story, I don't know if your planning on going there or not but it kind of makes me want to write fanfiction for this fic!
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Wall (4a/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-17 02:51 am (UTC)(link)"Hey," Matthew said from the doorway of the den. Alfred looked up in surprise, for he hadn't actually expected Matthew to come around so quickly. He had enough fights with his brother to know that he could stay isolated from him for days on end before saying a word of reparation towards him. "We need to get this sorted out before Dad gets home."
"Okay," Alfred said nonplused. Matthew swept into the room, and sat down in front of Alfred. His shoulders were bunched in and his face was downturned. There was an awkward silence.
"I'm not a boy."
The statement was mumbled to his shoes more than to his brother, but Alfred heard perfectly.
"That's ridiculous. Of course you're a boy. Just 'cause you happen to swing that way doesn't mean you're not."
Of course, after the initial shock, Alfred found that he was perfectly alright with having a gay brother. There was nothing wrong with that at all. He knew Matthew his entire life, after all. It wasn't like this would change too much.
"No, I'm not. I mean, I look like one, but..." Matthew trailed off, frustrated. "I'm not a drag queen, Alfred. Even though I look like one when I put on makeup." This last part was said in a resentful undertone.
"So you're not gay?" Alfred said, in an effort to change the subject.
"Well... no. I like boys but I'm not gay."
Alfred tried hard to wrap his head around that one and gave up. This situation was too bizarre for anything to really stick in his head.
"Sounds an awful lot like denial, bro."
"For Christ's sake, Alfred. I'm a girl."
Matthew turned dark red after the words left his mouth.
"At least, that's what I'm supposed to be," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd... I hoped... you won't tell anyone, will you?"
"You think you're a girl?" Alfred clarified, and immediately regretted it.
"I don't think anything," Matthew said coldly, and stood, signifying that this conversation was finished. "Don't tell anyone. Especially not Dad. He's going to be pissed enough when he finds out that I'm not planning anything for post-secondary."
"I won't tell."
Though Matthew looked distinctly unimpressed, Alfred hadn't felt this sincere about anything since they were kids and watched each other's backs all the time, even for the msot trivial things. What happened? Why didn't they do that any more?
"You don't understand me," Matthew said quietly.
"I might not understand, but I'll keep your secret all the same. Look Matt, we're twins. I've known you my whole life."
"Not as well as you think."
"What does that mean?"
Matthew faltered at the door, as though he wanted to say more, but then shook his head to himself and left.
OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-17 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)Oh, Alfred. I'm glad he's open minded enough to not freak out on Matthew. I don't think the poor boy could take that. :(
Again, still loving where this is going so far.
And if you do need suggestions for anything, ask away!
Re: OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-20 01:56 am (UTC)(link)And this is for waaay later.
Re: OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-20 02:56 am (UTC)(link)Re: Wall (4a/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-18 08:51 am (UTC)(link)And as someone whose native language isn't English either, I completely understand where you're coming from regarding the pronouns! Hahahah.
Walls (5a/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 02:21 am (UTC)(link)Matthew still didn't tell Alfred everything about himself; there were certain things he knew not to talk about if he didn't want to scare off his brother for good. He did speak at length about his hopes for the future, a little slice of heaven in suburbia somewhere with a husband who would love him as he was and yes, even a child.
He didn't tell Alfred how much it hurt to know that even if he went through with the surgery, he would never bear children. He didn't tell Alfred about the time when he had simply tried to do away with that part of him that was male, when he was too young to understand that wasn't the only thing that differentiated him from the normal girls.
Alfred was not ready for all that. He wasn't even ready for Matthew to wear something moderately more flattering than his usual jeans and hoodie.
"Hey Matt," Alfred said one day over a bag of peanut M&Ms.
"Yeah?"
"What's your name when you're... not Matthew?"
"Madeleine," Matthew said. "But if it makes you feel less awkward, Maddie's fine. I'd rather not be called Matt or Matthew anymore, now that you know."
"All right. That's the least I can do, considering you're the only reason I'm passing English this year."
"I don't know how you can fail English in the first place, bro. Dad would shit bricks if he knew," Matthew smiled.
"Well, damn good thing he doesn't," Alfred shuddered. Though he knew Matthew's secrets were probably more earth-shaking than his, the idea of being suspended from his cell phone for at least a month while he went through English bootcamp with his father was a really terrifying thought.
Meanwhile, the house next door was finally being occupied. Matthew had watched from the property line as the moving vans came and the boxes filed into that house. Finally, a lime-green Smartcar pulled into the driveway and the occupants of the house stepped out.
He was completely gorgeous, his golden hair tied back in a loose queue. It was a pity he was wearing such dark designer glasses, because Matthew wanted to see his eyes. There was something unrepentantly French about him, and it was nice to see a guy who cared about his looks enough to have designer casual wear on, albeit all in monochrome.
Pity he was about Dad's age.
She was around Matthew's age, though she seemed far younger, and her dark hair was tied into two cutesie pigtails. She wore a pretty dress that wasn't quite as flashy as her companion's clothing, and white sneakers with bright blue laces.
They spoke in hushed French, he cheerfully rustling her hair. Matthew, though he was good at French, found their dialect a bit different from the Quebecois he had been learning and therefore quite hard to follow.
"Hi," Matthew said timidly from the fence. He looked in Matthew's direction and smiled, a perfect white smile that almost glittered.
"Good evening!" he returned, his accent quite apparent even with this simple greeting. "We're the new neighbours. I am Francis Bonnefoy, and this is my daughter, Michelle."
Matthew nodded.
"My name's Maddie," he said, deliberately pronouncing the 'd' a bit hard so it sounded like Mattie as well. Francis beamed.
"Wonderful. Michelle was anxious that she wouldn't have any girls her age to play with. N'est-ce-pas, Michelle?"
"Papa, ce n'est pas une fi..."
"Would you kindly show her around town? I doubt she really wants to stay in this little 'ouse when there's so much to explore."
"O-okay," Matthew said, and hopped the fence to walk down the driveway with Michelle, unsure if he had heard correctly. Francis had totally figured out he was a girl, within five seconds of knowing him. Couldn't he see Matthew's too-broad shoulders, his slender hips, his Adam's apple...?
Walls (5b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 02:22 am (UTC)(link)"Why didn't you tell him you're a boy?" Michelle asked when they were out of earshot.
"He called me a girl?" Matthew said absently. Michelle rolled her eyes.
"Yes. Are you stoned? He totally did. I guess he had to go by your voice, though. My papa's blind," Michelle muttered.
"Oh. I'm sorry," Matthew said.
"You shouldn't be. You're not the one who threw acid in his eyes," Michelle said shortly. There was an awkward silence. "Shit. This is why I don't have friends."
"I didn't tell him I was a boy 'cause I'm not," Matthew said, simultaneous to Michelle's admission. They both raised their eyebrows in confusion, and stopped in the street.
"Don't tell anyone," Matthew said lamely.
"Who would I tell?"
That was the start of a beautiful friendship.
Re: Walls (5b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 03:18 am (UTC)(link)Oh and I'm delighted to meet Francis and I can't wait to see how Matthew and Michelle's relationship unfolds.
Re: Walls (5b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 04:05 am (UTC)(link)Re: Walls (5b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 07:27 am (UTC)(link)All in all, I think this fic is brilliant. I really like the whole take you did with this. Also I really your Alfred, and I really like that even though he doesn't understand he keeps his brother's secret~
Yay for the new chapter, and please update soon!
OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 08:10 pm (UTC)(link)And shocked, in a good way, because she was not expecting to see France blind in this, but she really likes the way it was going.
Also, Seychelles being added into this is yay~ too.
Just...everything.
Re: OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-22 01:14 am (UTC)(link)I'm glad I still have a happy OP. :D
Walls (6a/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-25 05:01 am (UTC)(link)Michelle knew what to do with make-up, knew how to hide his flaws with it in ways that the Internet hadn't been able to provide, and most of all she could talk to him as a girl. They had different ideas of what to do when they left high school, but Matthew could tell her in all confidence about the nuclear family in the little house he dreamed of, and she could listen with the sort of patience Matthew had hitherto only received from his brother, who didn't understand certain parts of what he was saying. Michelle got it almost immediately.
"You just want to be secure," she smiled. "Secure in your identity, and in everything. Papa's much the same now. That's why we moved here, so he could have a predictable life to live."
"What happened to your Dad?" Matthew asked curiously. Michelle sighed, and jiggled her knee anxiously.
"We don't really talk about it," she said simply, and brightened up. "Would you like some comfort food? I can make pancakes."
Matthew grinned from behind the purple pillow he had been squishing against his chest, and hopped up to join his friend.
"You're so cute!" Michelle smiled back, and ruffled Matthew's hair. "Have you ever tried pigtails?"
Matthew's nose wrinkled just slightly at this.
"Ew," he intoned. The dark girl crossed her arms and tapped her feet, and he had to explain himself further. "I don't have the right face for it. I'd look like a hooker."
There was a knock on the door, and Michelle just about skipped to the door to answer.
"Oh, hi Alfred!" she said in a mock-surprised tone. "What are you here for?"
"I'm here to ransom Maddie," Alfred said cheerfully. "Because I am screwed in about ten thousand ways for this English assignment."
"Well, if you didn't sleep through English class, then you wouldn't have that problem," Matthew said, poking Alfred on the forehead. His brother was getting good; he didn't even spare a confused glance at Matthew's powder-blue camisole and hip-hugging pyjama pants. Instead he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"Take mercy on your stupid brother, Mad'leine?" he said pleadingly. Matthew pouted, and turned to Michelle.
"What do you think?" she asked teasingly. Michelle grinned a wide Charlie Brown grin and her eyes rolled to the heavens.
"I think we're making pancakes, and your puppydog brother will scratch on the door if we don't let him in sooner or later," she said. "My dad won't mind."
"Thanks, Michelle," Alfred said with a smile. "And pancakes! I definitely need to crash more girls' nights in, huh?"
"Get your ass in here before people see me," Matthew snapped. Alfred obeyed, just as Francis walked by to the kitchen.
"I heard someone say pancakes, Michelle, and if you think I'm letting you get close to the stove alone after what happened with the blender..." he started calmly. "Hello, Alfred."
"How do you know it's me?" Alfred said, overawed.
"Adorable, really," Francis said drily. "Michelle, help me with the batter. Alfred must be truly desperate to track down his sister here for school help."
"Yes Papa."
Walls (6b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-25 05:10 am (UTC)(link)"Maddie, how is it that Michelle's dad knows you're a girl before our dad knows?" Alfred asked in an undertone as they sat at the kitchen table with his English texts.
"I didn't tell him, if that's what you're saying," Matthew said, blushing to his ears. "He thought I was a girl right off the bat."
"It doesn't really matter how he knows, Madd. But Dad's still Dad, and sooner or later he's going to find out. He has to."
Matthew swallowed drily and nodded. He knew that he was only postponing that day when he would have to tell his father everything, but he still wasn't ready. What would Dad do?
"It won't be that bad, Maddie. If you could tell me, then you can tell him. It's not like he'll turn you out of the house, and even if he does, Michelle could take you in..."
"Could you shut up and concentrate on your homework? What is it you're having trouble with?" Matthew said sharply.
Alfred sighed, and dropped the subject. This talk would have to wait.
Lately though, he had noticed that while Dad wanted more and more to talk to Matthew, the more and more he was being shut out. this might have been unintentional; Matthew was obviously concerned with many other things and probably didn't know the effect it was taking on others. But at the same time it was hard to see Dad come home and casually state that Matthew must be next door again. It was hard to see Dad try not to be too hurt when it was just the two of them in the house.
Alfred wondered when Matthew would finally get around to telling Dad the truth about himself. it probably wouldn't be today, or next week, but when would it be? When Matthew was two provinces away and fully out to everyone else in the world? Alfred loved his Dad, probably even more than Matthew, and he couldn't stand keeping secrets from him, though he had promised his brother he would.
He listened to his brother explain Death of a Salesman to him for the third time that month, and resolved that he would get Matthew to tell Dad the truth later this week.
Re: Walls (6b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-25 10:38 am (UTC)(link)I have no idea what your intentions are as far as the plot goes but as I read I'm starting to really want a FrUK love affair side story to this.
OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-26 01:28 am (UTC)(link)I'm glad that Mattie's getting friends though, even if it is pushing him away from Arthur (which could't be helped regardless).
Good job anon~
Walls (7/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-27 01:22 am (UTC)(link)To say that Alfred had never felt so guilty in his entire life was a huge understatement. Matthew's eyes were rimmed with red and Alfred could sense that the only thing keeping his brother from snapping and throttling him was the giant bowl of M&Ms balanced on his lap.
Alfred couldn't say anything. 'Sorry' was stuck in his throat and he just wanted to disappear from Matthew's silent rage.
Needless to say, enlightening their father on the subject of Matthew's gender had not gone well. Alfred had been ill-prepared to break the news to Dad, and pretty much set Matthew up for failure. Dad simply did not listen to what Alfred said, and most of what Matthew managed to say between tears of frustration. In his mind's eye, Alfred could still see their father sitting at the head of the table, cup of tea in hand, completely immovable.
"Are you just going to sit there?" Matthew asked. "Aren't you going to say anything? I wasn't ready to tell Dad. He's not ready to know, and I'll be surprised if he ever is now. Why'd you do that to me?"
Alfred could feel tears burning his eyes, and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He had never seen Matthew so upset before, and he couldn't believe that it was his fault.
"Do you know what it's like being in the wrong body?" Matthew finally burst out, as though he wanted to blot out Alfred's silence with his anger. "It's like trying to read a book in a language I don't understand. It's like peeling an orange and finding an apple. It's like..."
He broke off and stuffed a handful of M&Ms in his mouth, crunching in an almost comical way that didn't fadge with this situation. Alfred just stood there, vaguely aware that the doorframe was cutting into his back.
"It's like having a million pieces of a puzzle that don't match the picture on the box," he finally muttered. "And you know that some of the pieces will be missing even if you finish the puzzle as best as you can. That's what it's like, Alfred."
He was trying not to cry. Alfred could tell, even through the blurred vision that he had from his own failure not to do so.
"That's what I wanted to say to Dad," Matthew said. "He would have understood that. I've been trying to figure out how to make him understand for months. And now I won't get that chance. No matter what I tell him, he won't listen. He's like a wall know."
"I'm sorry," Alfred said quietly. His throat was so tight he doubted Matthew could hear him at all. But Matthew looked at him with dull violet eyes and said, "You've hurt so much of me."
He wasn't Madeleine right now, or at least he wasn't letting her out. She was locked in with the most horrible emotions, and for now Matthew was in full reign. That part that everyone could see, the part Alfred had seen for the longest time until he had gained Matthew's trust. Grey Matthew Kirkland instead of blue Madeleine.
Sobbing, Alfred slid down the doorframe. He let out all the grief that Matthew simply couldn't, and didn't notice as Matthew quietly closed the door and enclosed him in an apologetic hug.
Re: Walls (7/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-27 02:34 am (UTC)(link)Its just...its so him. Or her, if you prefer.
Re: Walls (7/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-27 04:19 am (UTC)(link)*hugs them both*
Re: Walls (7/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-27 04:32 am (UTC)(link)sometimesmost of the time.Thank you for this <3
Re: Walls (7/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-09-27 09:25 pm (UTC)(link)I just want to give both of them a gigantic hug--those last two sentences were perfect. Absolutely perfect. Just perfectly broke my heart right there.
Looking forward to your fantastic updates!
OP
(Anonymous) 2010-10-02 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)DDDD:
Oh Al. Oh Maddie.
I want to hug both of them.
But I'm really curious about Arthur's take on all of this. Whether or not he's like "this is all rubbish" or worse.
Walls (8/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-10-05 03:10 am (UTC)(link)"Dad?"
He had been 26, and Jenny would have been 24 by the summer's end. The next two months had seen Arthur grieving while trying to care for two babies. He had been given much-needed aid by his sympathetic aunt, but he knew that at some point he would have to care for his (their) children alone.
"Dad, I'm sorry."
He remembered how much Matthew looked like Jenny when he was little, how sombre and quiet he was in comparison to his rambunctious brother. Arthur always thought that Matthew knew he was missing a big part of his life; he'd only been mistaken when he thought that part was a mother.
"Please let me try to explain."
Again and again, he wished he could talk to Jenny, because speaking to her resentful sister over the phone was no replacement for the love of his life. But he wished he could ask Jenny about the children, what to do. He had been ready for children, but only with Jenny. God knows he did his best, and he was immoderately proud of his sons, but he knew someday he would be proven to have failed.
Matthew was watching him from across the table, his eyes shadowed as though he hadn't been sleeping and his hands clasped tightly together. He had a piece of toast in his hand, he must be just about ready to go to school.
"What do you want to explain, Matthew?" Arthur said with an oblivious smile. Matthew's shoulders slumped.
"Forget it," Matthew muttered, and pulled on his hoodie before stuffing his toast in his mouth. Arthur contemplated saying something to Matthew before he walked out, but didn't. He drank his tea, and then left for work.
Arthur remembered Jenny and the way she'd sing to her large belly and promise Arthur that the children wouldn't have his eyebrows. He remembered when they first met, on the steps of Oxford. She had been studying English Lit, and he Ancient Britons; it was love at first sight, even if she thought Beowulf was overrated.
He remembered the happy year they had lived together here in this very house before they decided to have children. How childishly sure Jenny was that she would have a boy and a girl, even when the ultrasounds were indicating two boys. She was beautiful when she was with child, like the sun and the moon all in one. She would sit in the overstuffed chair that she had to bring over from England for this exact reason and smile when Arthur brought her tea and told shooed the cat away from the upholstery. The chair was still in their living room, practically sacred to everyone who lived here.
He loved his sons, and of course he wanted to support Matthew through whatever phase this was. He wanted to understand, because he was desperate to keep Matthew close to him as long as he could. But he couldn't get his head around whatever it was Matthew was trying to tell him.
"What do I do, Jenny?" he asked softly. "What am I supposed to do?"
There was no answer, of course. He only ever heard Jenny in dreams, and only then in times of happiness and calm. Pouring the remainder of his tea down the sink, he wondered for yet another moment if he was cut out to be a parent and affirmed the realization that he definitely was not. He was forty-four, not getting any younger, and he had been masquerading as a good father for the last eighteen years.
Walls (8b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-10-05 03:12 am (UTC)(link)"Hey Dad."
Alfred was standing at the bottom of the stairs, wearing only a pair of ratty plaid pyjama bottoms. Arthur watched him disconnectedly as he took a carton of soya milk and drank straight from it.
"I'm going to be late at school today," Alfred said, wiping an off-white streak from his upper lip. "I've got football practice."
"You're on the team, then? Jolly good," Arthur said quietly. He wished that he didn't sound so disinterested. "Alfred..."
"Yeah?"
"How long has your brother been..."
He couldn't even finish the sentence. Part of his throat closed up and left him mute.
"Maddie's just as she's always been," Alfred said shortly. "And I'm sure she'd prefer it if you talked to her about it rather than me."
"But how long have you known about this without telling me?"
"It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have been the one to tell you in the first place," Alfred said, and turned to Arthur before going up the stairs. "She wants you to understand, not just to know. Talk to her."
He bounded upstairs to get dressed, and left without a word.
Re: Walls (8b/?)
(Anonymous) 2010-10-05 12:09 pm (UTC)(link)On a side note I'm dying for some FrUK in this story, I don't know if your planning on going there or not but it kind of makes me want to write fanfiction for this fic!
Author-Anon approves fanfiction
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