Alfred played with his phone, lounging in the simply decorated waiting room. He bit his lip, his eyes concentrating on the game intensely. One of his ear buds had fallen out, blasting music into the air. He couldn't put it back in. He couldn't take his thumbs away from the screen.

He couldn't risk his robot unicorn crashing into a star.

"Alfred?"

The American teen's head shot up, the other ear bud falling out as he heard the dying neigh and booming crash. "Oh hey there, buddy!" He greeted, locking his phone and putting it away hastily. "All done?"

"Da." Ivan answered, wrapping his scarf back around his neck. He fidgeted anxiously as Alfred stood up, and tried to return the others carefree smile. It came out forced. He still wasn't completely comfortable seeing Dr. Berwald once a week about his problems, but having Alfred take him made it easier.

"So, how'd it go today?" Alfred asked, as per usual, as they exited the building and padded toward his parked car.

Ivan gave a little shrug, "I spoke about my dreams. He made me take off my scarf the whole hour…" He replied, uncomfortably.

"Well, that's good." Alfred insisted, getting into the car and starting the engine, "I mean, you shouldn't be that attached to it. Especially since Kat's around now. Not that it ain't cute on you." He added with a slight chuckle. "Speakin' of Kat, how's the job search?"

"Toris thinks the bar will hire her." Ivan muttered, looking away, "I do not approve. But it is the only job that will let her take courses during the day…" He sighed, glaring out the window.

"Nothin'll happen to her, big guy. Don't worry." The American assured, as they drove out of the parking lot and into the busy street.

"If anything does I will make them pay." The taller teen seethed from his seat. Alfred gave him a warning glance and the Russian tried to calm himself down. Right. He was suppose to be discouraging violent thoughts.

It had been a few months since he started visiting the psychiatrist. Summer was just blooming and things had returned to their calm. More calm than ever before. With school over, Ivan found Alfred much more carefree. One could easily tell how much school stressed the American, and with it gone for three months came desperate relief.

"So, you wanna come to my house or should I drop you off at yours? Warning: Dad's flipping out from packing so it's kinda a warzone." Alfred spoke up again as they stopped at a red light. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for a response.

"Why must you keep reminding me that you're leaving?" The Russian sighed, leaning back in his seat. Alfred smiled sadly beside him, reaching out to squeeze his hand. It was short lived because moments later the light changed and he needed both hands on the wheel again.

"It's only for a month!" He assured, "It's tradition! I'll be back before you know it." The other reminded him. "Your house or mine?" He repeated.

"Yours." Ivan replied, "And that's 30 days, Alfred."

"You'll live." Alfred laughed out, nodding at the answer. His house was closer anyway. Ivan rolled his eyes but knew the words were true. It was odd. Weeks before he probably wouldn't have. Alfred had once been a second security blanket, without him by his side he feared losing control. But now…with the voices quieting, it felt he could survive a month a without him.

Perhaps the psychiatrist was working.

It still didn't mean he liked it.

The pair lulled into idle conversation, and soon they were turning into the Bonnefoy's driveway. Alfred parked the car and they both stepped out of it, making their way to the American's door. Before Ivan could turn the door knob, though, he was tugged back around. He blinked at the other, while Alfred only smirked.

"Ya haven't even kissed me, ya big lug." He scolded, pulling him down for a kiss that was quickly returned.

"Alfred is that you—Oh stop that!" Arthur snapped, opening the door after hearing the car come in. "I need you to pack your clothes!"

Alfred pulled away with a huff, "Yeah, Dad I know. I'll do it in a minute! I'm not even inside the house yet." He complained, pushing his way into his home. Arthur let him, rolling his eyes and retreating back.

"You always put it off and then you pack last second and guess who always forgets something? Alfred, I'm sick of buying you underwear in London because you never pack any!" Arthur retorted, paying Ivan's presence no heed. He was practically always in their house anyway.

Alfred flushed, "Dad!" He shouted, "I'll go pack right now alright! Just stop talking!" He glared, stomping over to the stairs as he tugged a quite amused Ivan behind him.

Arthur let them go, going back to feverishly cleaning the living room. He couldn't stand leaving his house messy before a long trip. He just wouldn't allow for it to happen. He bent over, wiping away at the dust on the coffee table.

Two hands firmly gripped his waist, eliciting a not-so-manly squeak from the Brit. "Francis! Get the bloody hell off of me."

"I couldn't help myself!" Francis defended playfully, gently rutting against the man's behind. Arthur pushed him off easily, whirling around to face him.

"Stop being so bloody lecherous! You're supposed to be cleaning the kitchen. We're leaving tomorrow night for God's sakes!" He reminded angrily, shoving the man back toward the kitchen. Francis sighed and followed the other's commands, knowing perfectly well he wouldn't be able to change his mind.

On the second floor, Ivan sat on Alfred's unmade bed as the other fussed in his closet, complaining about his father. Ivan half listened, having heard these complaints many times before, and studied the American's backside as he searched his closet for clothing.

He was going to miss that backside.

"There, I packed my underwear, he better be fuckin' happy." Alfred glowered, turning around with all the boxers he owned. Ivan giggled lightly.

He would miss Alfred's mind even more.

"Hey Al, could I borrow some of your shirts when you guys go back home?" Matthew asked, suddenly poking his head into the room. "I don't see the point in packing more for my extra two weeks."

"Yeah, sure bro." Alfred answered with a wave, "Though, I don't see why you'll need them since you're going with your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend, Al!" Matthew snapped back, reddening slightly, "We broke up months ago!"

"Yeah, right. And you were separated for like a week before being joined at the hip again! You're not foolin' anyone, Mattie." Alfred snorted, starting to pack his jeans and other pants.

"We're just friends!" The younger twin insisted.

"Whatever you say. But after those weeks in Germany with him, I bet you 20 bucks you'll be more than 'just friends!'"

Matthew only shot him a glare, not giving him the pleasure of a response and returned to his own room. Alfred snickered at his small victory, turning back to pack.

"Alfred, I thought you did not like them dating?" Ivan spoke up curiously, scrutinizing his lover closely. The blond blinked, looking up at him.

"Well, if Gil hurts him I'm gonna beat his ass but my bro can date whoever he wants. I was just fuckin pissed he didn't tell me. But I'm ok now. I just needed time to get used to it, I guess." He shrugged, trying to squish down his clothes to make more room. He didn't really like thinking about it, honestly. Matthew was, after all, his little brother.

Ivan got up to help him and Alfred continued packing. They were silent. But it was not an awkward silence. There was simply no need for words at the moment.

Eventually Alfred finished, messily packing away a month of his life. Ivan sat back down on his bed as the American placed the suitcase by his door.

"What time are you departing tomorrow?" Ivan questioned, a bit of sadness tinging his words. He was losing someone he loved, albeit temporarily. He could never really cope well with loss, even though he knew it so well.

"Our plane leaves at 8, but we gotta be there at 5:30, so we're leaving the house at 4:30…" Alfred explained, counting off on his fingers as he took a seat beside him. Ivan was having none of that and pulled him on to his lap. Alfred laughed lightly, leaning back in the other's embrace. "Don't worry, man. It'll be gone in a flash. I'll even bring ya an Eiffel tower trinket."

Ivan remained silent.

"Hey…Ivan…Promise me you'll keep seeing Dr. Berwald." Alfred said suddenly, sternly. The Russian sighed, before giving a small nod.

"I promise."

The American smiled, leaning up to kiss him. A kiss that soon escalated into so much more.

Ivan felt cold as he waved goodbye. Alfred gave him a reassuring grin from the backseat of the car as he was driven away. Katyusha squeezed his hand and Natalia kept a firm grip around his waist.

He wasn't alone anymore. He was surrounded by people he loved.

And yet he felt like Alfred had driven away with a part of himself.

And somehow, even though it was a little lonelier, he knew he could pull through.

Ivan did not miss a single meeting with Dr. Berwald in the four weeks of Alfred's absence. In fact, he seemed to open up even more about his inner thoughts. About his deepest fears. About his darkest truths.

For Alfred, his vacation seemed to fly by as always. After the awkward first week in London with his father's not so approving family, of course. Those days were quite long and…tense. They didn't even stay in his grandparent's home, they remained in a hotel nearby. Arthur would take the boys over for tea and try not to cause a fight.

Francis wasn't invited.

And then Arthur would leave in a rush to go to a pub with his husband, leaving Matthew and Alfred to awkwardly bond with their uncles.

After the stumble in London, they were off to the French countryside to see their grandmother and aunt. There, the twins spent their days relaxing, laughing, going out into the city and trying to sneak in some French wine.

Even Arthur preferred it here than at his home, although he would never admit that to anyone—especially that smug little Frenchman of a husband.

Before the family realized it, however, their days ran out. The drive to the airport was quiet. Only Matthew was excited about the next flight, mostly since he wouldn't be going home.

"Make sure you thank the Beilschmidts thoroughly when they pick you up!" Arthur reminded, fussing with his son's clothes to hide his anxiety. Sometimes he still treated Matthew as the baby of the family. This was one of those times.

"I know Dad."

"Do you have enough Euros?" Francis asked for the third time that morning.

"Yes, Papa." Matthew replied, again. Even though the treatment was aggravating, he still beamed. He had never been to Germany. And going with Gil seemed like such a dream. His smile faded when he saw his brother doing lewd gestures in the background. It wasn't like that at all!

The overhead speakers called his gate.

He hugged his brother and parents goodbye and left for his plane.

Not even a few minutes later, Arthur wanted to make sure he was seated on the plane alright and soon found himself arguing with airport security, demanding to see his baby. Francis had to negotiate in hurried French that the Englishman was drunk and not to be listened to and quickly dragged his husband away.

Alfred soon assured his Dad that Mattie was fine by showing him a text he had just recieved got. This seemed to calm the man down for the while.

Before long, the remaining trio were on their own plane back to the United States. Other than the fact that Alfred was painfully aware his parents were attempting to join the mile high club after drinking a bit too much, the trip was uneventful. And although on the ride back he could tell that it was a failed attempt by the muttered arguments and the noticeable red bump on his British father's head (where he most likely hit himself in a cramped airplane bathroom), the ride home was also quite peaceful.

That peace was broken as Alfred had barely gotten out of his car when he was assaulted by a Russian bear hug. He laughed good naturedly, returning the hug full force.

And it was as if Alfred had never left. Ivan and his American sunflower spent their summer days together peacefully, with only the rare Russian nightmare to disturb the calm. Ivan visited his psychiatrist, Arthur asked about his progress and Alfred fell more in teenage love with him every day.

Katyusha did, indeed, get her new job and continued taking her classes. She could speak broken English, which she eagerly practiced with Alfred. Natalia was set up to start school in the fall along with the rest of the gang. Francis and Arthur were at each other's throats, and in each other's hearts as always.

And Matthew…

Well, when Matthew came home with the Beilschmidts two weeks later he handed Alfred his twenty dollars.

SO SORRY THAT THAT WAS A HORRENDOUS WAIT BUT LOOK AN EPILOGUE

It's short cause its an epilogue and I'm sorry.

And with that I can close the book on Clinging

I'm going to start hyperventilating now. And maybe have a good nice long cry because this was a 2 year plus journey.

Can I just say that every single one of you readers is amazing? For sticking through to the end of this horrificly long story and sending me the nicest of reviews full of love and encouragement? I honestly could never have dreamed to finish this behemoth without you guys. Thank you so much for you patience.

I love you all!

I hope to see you in my other fics, and in Clinging's very own prequel! So keep your eyes peeled (though knowing me it'll be a while)

AGAIN THANK YOU FOREVER I LOVE YOU ALL NEVER STOP BEING AMAZING