AATC - Home

He strummed the strings on his guitar as he hummed a soft tune. While the moon was high and bright, and the silver stars glittered in the night sky, his spirit was lower than he had expected it to be. It had not been an easy day for him, which was putting it very mildly. Not only had Dictator decided to attack the city again, but the recording session he and his brothers had had that day had been all but successful. Someone had moved his guitar, therefore Alvin had to waste precious recording minutes to tune it again. Theodore's drum skin over the snare had a tear in it, so they had to run out and get another. And Simon's glasses had broken that morning due to him accidentally stepping on them, so he had to resort to his contact lenses, something he hated wearing for the simple fact that they irritated his eyes to no end. His glasses would be repaired by the next day thankfully, but wearing the contacts made it very difficult for him to concentrate on their songs. He was constantly raising a hand to rub his eyes, something that was not supposed to be done when wearing pieces of plastic over one's eyes. Even during the mission he found it difficult to get a clear shot of the Dictator—Alvin and Theodore had to redirect his aim when he accidentally raised a civilian instead of a trashcan.

Those were the bigger issues. Contracts, more crazed fans, an argument with Dave and then another broken rib were a few other things that happened that day.

The worst was that it had happened on a day he had hoped never to have to spend stressing out over.

Alvin closed his eyes and let out a few soft yet crisp notes, although he strummed the guitar almost reluctantly. He wanted to play it, but his body did not wish to. His heart needed music, but his mind did not. He forced his fingers to even stroke the strings, longing to hear a soothing song, but the more he played, the heavier his heart grew.

He sat by the window with his legs stretched out over a nearby stool. Theodore had him remove his t-shirt and unzip his red sweater so that he could bandage his body, tight enough to keep everything in place while Alvin's rib healed. It hurt to take a breath sometimes, especially while singing, but he could not sit around and wait patiently for another broken bone to heal. So he sang.

Unfortunately, it did nothing to ease his emotions.

Starin' out into the night
Tryin' to hide the pain
Goin' to the place where love
And feelin' good don't ever cost a thing

And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain…

Simon peered into the dark music room, holding an icepack in his hands. The moonlight pouring in from the windows reflected off the round spectacles over his nose—he had to pull out his old pair of glasses while his other was getting repaired. The children had gone to bed half an hour earlier to Alvin's soft playing, and Theodore was sleeping on the couch downstairs after the long day they had had. Simon therefore took the opportunity to take an icepack up to his elder brother, knowing that Alvin would not come down on his own to fetch it—he knew what day it was and how the events of that day had worn his best friend out more than usual.

He took a step into the room as his brother continued to sing and kept from speaking, just to listen to Alvin's vocals, just imagining them making the stars twinkle.

I'm goin' home
To the place where I belong
Where your love has always been enough for me

I'm not runnin' from
No, I think you've got me all wrong
I don't regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

I'm goin' home…

Simon sighed before making his way around their instruments to the back of the room. "Need some ice, Superman?" he said while holding up the pack.

Alvin did not raise his eyes from the guitar when his brother spoke. He kept silent for a moment, all the while strumming his guitar, before speaking: "I don't need it right now," he muttered.

"Alvin, you got tossed into a parked semi truck; you need ice," his brother argued, although Simon never raised his voice. "Plus, while you can still sing, I can hear you forcing some notes up through the pain." He held up the pack again. "Just take it, please."

Alvin set his head back against the window. "Let me finish this song first," he said before singing again:

The miles are getting longer it seems
The closer I get to you
I've not always been the man or friend for you
But your love remains true
And I don't know why

You always seem to give me another try…

I'm goin' home
To the place where I belong
Where your love has always been enough for me

I'm not runnin' from
No, I think you've got me all wrong
I don't regret this life I chose for me

But these places and these faces are getting old

Simon stood there in silence, watching as Alvin tried to sit up in a better position to strum harder. His brow furrowed, demonstrating the frustration he felt in having to force up notes through the pain in his chest and the emotional squeeze on his heart, no doubt. His played harder, as though it would make things better.

Be careful what you wish for
'cuz you just might get it all
Yeah you just might get it all
And that's something you don't want

Be careful what you wish for
'cuz you just might get it all
Yeah you just might get it all
And that's something you don't want

Ooooooohhh ooo-whoa-oooohhh!

When his brother's arms began to glow red, Simon set the icepack down nearby and placed a hand over the guitar, silencing it. Alvin ceased to strum it and looked up with weary eyes.

"Just take a breather, Alvin," Simon whispered as the glow diminished. "That's all you need to do right now." He waited for his brother to take a deep breath before sitting down on the piano bench nearby. "You missed her more than usual today, didn't you?"

"With all the stress that happened, heck yeah," Alvin replied while wiping his eyes over his sleeve. "The pain ain't doin' it justice either." He closed his eyes as his fingers lightly strummed the guitar. "She asked me out on a date today, fifteen years ago. Funny how the girl asked the guy out first, but considering who Brittany was, it made sense. She always wanted to be first. First in races, first to start dancing, first to sing, first to graduate… or get her diploma, no thanks to M coming before S." He grinned weakly as he continued to play the guitar. "And then she was first to make the move; first to give a kiss; first to say 'yes', first to get the ring, first to pick dibs on a name for a kid…" His smile washed away and when he opened his eyes, the moonlight reflected in his tears. "First to… disappear without a trace," he added. "Since last spring when we moved to Hearttropolis, I've just felt that void a lot more than when he lived in L.A., not playing any actual part in this whole prophecy shebang. All the stress that comes with being a hero really sucks the life out of you, you know?"

Simon smiled weakly and looked at his hands as he intertwined his fingers. "Yes," he whispered. "I do."

"I feel like a broken record. Something in Spike's letter said that the girls were still out there, but… at the same time, they're not. It's hard having to repeat to your kids that their mom will come back. It's hard keeping their hopes up on the worst of days, but it's even harder trying to stick around long enough to care for them when you're getting tossed into buildings and knocked into semi trucks. If it wasn't for my ability to make shields, I'd be dead ten times over by now." He closed his eyes again before taking a deep breath. "It's hard enough being a single parent, but it's harder being a hero who doesn't know what the heck he's fighting for; humanity, his kids, or the blind belief that his wife is still alive."

He fell silent for some time after that. Simon remained in his position before turning around and placing his hands over the keys of the piano. Flexing his fingers, he began gliding them over the keyboard, eyes closed, playing the song his brother had been playing earlier on his guitar. He had attempted to teach Alvin as children how to play piano, but the hyper-active chipmunk had no patience to learn it Simon's way—and there was no way Simon would let him play his piano the 'Alvin way' either, considering that meant calling a piano tuner earlier than necessary. Even Theodore had found it difficult to learn. That gave the instrument all the more charm and enchantment to it, considering only one Seville, besides Dave of course, could play it—well, Claire was learning, but she still wasn't as dedicated as her uncle was.

Alvin turned his head and watched his brother play for a little while before opening his mouth again: "How do you do it?"

Simon kept his eyes closed and did not reply right away. "How do I do what; play the piano with my eyes closed?"

"No; how do you just keep going after all the crud that's happened to you? I mean, the accident."

"Medication helps."

"With everything?"

Simon shook his head as he continued to play. "No, not everything," he said. "But you know what does?"

"No, that's why I'm asking—!"

"You."

Alvin fell silent at this before frowning in confusion. "Huh?"

"You keep me going," Simon repeated. "You, Theodore, Dave, the twins… and AJ. Especially AJ. You guys help me cope with something tragic, and give me the strength to pull through another day without my wife. Although a reality I am afraid to face still looms before me, I've never forgotten what you did to keep me on my toes." Opening his eyes and looking at Alvin over his shoulder, he added, "Sometimes, thinking about a good thing helps you to cope with the bad thing. Sometimes, you need to hear a little joke to push a bad memory back. Your blind belief in finding the Chipettes keeps the kids' hopes up more than you think, Alvin. AJ's always telling me how you keep reminding him that his Mama might come back. While I'm slowly deviating from that belief, I'm glad you can keep my son believing in something. Your ability to make the impossible seem possible is an essential part of the Sevilles; none of us would have made it this far if you weren't there to help keep our hopes up. It's like Spike said: you're our Inner Strength—you give us hope even when it seems like there's none."

Alvin turned his head away again. "How does that help me from missing Brittany?" he wondered.

Simon looked at the piano again. "Think of it as a game, Alvin. We took our move, you made sure our pieces weren't knocked back to square one. Now, switch it around; you make the move, we'll keep you going. That's what family does, Al. We support you. Just because you're the oldest and the leader of the pack, so to say, it doesn't mean you need to be tough all the time. When you need support, we'll help you." He ceased to play the piano for a moment and grinned while turning to look at his best friend again. "So considering playing a song alone tends to make you feel worse about yourself, why don't we play one together? You can concentrate on criticizing my playing instead. You have fun doing that, right?"

Alvin choked on a laugh at this. "Only because I can't play the piano," he added. "You make it too emotional sometimes."

"Tis the pianist's job, dear brother," Simon replied pompously. He turned back to the keys. "Let's play that song again, and maybe we'll be able to wake Theodore up so that he can come play the drums."

"Won't it wake the kids?"

"That's never stopped you before."

"Well today was—!"

"It's a soft song, Alvin. They're used to that."

Alvin tapped his guitar strings and smiled weakly. "Let's take it from the top, then," he said. "Three, two, one…"


Original: www.youtube.com/watch?v=83OGAB…

Chipmunk version: www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMUFhf…

It wasn't often that Alvin would sit himself down to sing a duet with his brother. Both Simon and Theodore had grown to despise having to sing a song without all three of them there. On days where Alvin was too ill to sing or practice, they would never do it. They claimed they weren't good enough to take front stage. It was always a treat when he could sit them down and listen to them sing.

As he sung he realized that he was doing exactly what Simon had suggested he did. He thought of the good times he had singing with his brothers, and while missing his wife was still something present, it was easier to bear. Singing with someone when your heart was heavy always made things brighter.

Simon had also been right about one thing; the music had caught Theodore's attention, and just before the second verse, he came running into the room with a cocky grin that said "and you didn't bother to tell me you guys were singing?" He grabbed his drumsticks and sat down at the kit, twisted them around his fingers and then began to keep the beat for his brothers.

One thing had come from their time without their wives, Alvin realized: their bond had grown stronger, and the realization that, no matter what, he would never need to face things alone, had never been clearer.

I'm going home…

…

I am home.