Liberty Jones

Chapter Five

She had to say, it wasn't all that unexpected.

But she'd still been surprised to open up her door one day and find Matthew standing there with a big bouquet and a nervous smile

She'd been around for forty years at this point, though she still looked like she'd just turned twenty. But that was how nations always were. Arthur was basically her grandfather, and he'd stopped aging at twenty-three, for christ's sakes!

But she'd had to say, lately her relationship with Matthew had begun to be more than it had when she was younger. Then he'd been her friend, helping her, looking out for her.

He still was those things, but he was also starting to become more than that.

She just started being in the same place with him more often. Matthew respected the fact that she was still young and unsure, and never pressured her into anything. If he thought he might of, he began apologizing profusely, whether he had or not (he usually hadn't).

"Liberty, what are you thinking about?" He asked one day, right after a long, loud sigh.

"I miss Papa. But I tried to talk to him over twenty years ago, and he acted like a spoiled brat and refused to forgive me. He told me that was one of father's downfalls, but there he sits doing it to himself."

Matthew paused. "Uh, pardon me if it's insulting, but by refusing to try again, aren't you doing the same thing?"

Liberty turned, her eyes flashing with anger, and she started to speak, and then paused. "I guess you're right."

Matthew sometimes wondered how, with Al and Ivan for her parents, Liberty had ended up so soft spoken. Maybe it was because of Arthur, or Toris, or Ludwig, or even him.

She sat in silence for a while, and then she headed into the kitchen, humming something in Russian, and began to cook.

Matthew left her alone, and finally she came out of the kitchen, carrying a casserole dish filled with something that smelled delicious.

Then he watched her sort through the coat closet, until she pulled out a heavy long trench coat, and then pulled a sweater over her t-shirt as well.

When she started putting on her snow boots, Matthew grabbed his coat.

"I'm coming with you."

She looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. "Alright."

Ivan sat looking at the bottle, half empty.

Over twenty years since he had seen Alfred's spirit on a regular basis.

Twenty years since he pushed his daughter away.

He takes another swig.

Then suddenly the ghost is in front of him, angrily shouting, though he's oblivious to what exactly he's being called. Probably something along the lines of You damn motherfucking drunk Russian! Go to fucking hell. You PROMISED you'd never do this again!

He stands, knowing that Al would only be here if she was here. That's where Al has been the past twenty two years, at her side.

Ivan looks out the window. She's just coming up the steps, and someone is standing next to her. looking nervous.

He sighs as the doorbell rings, and sets down the bottle.

"Liberty, are you sure about this?"

"No."

"That's reassuring."

"You didn't have to come."