February 15th, 1763

It was nearly three AM, and Francis Bonnefoy couldn't sleep. The cold winds were blowing outside, making the walls of the house shake and the posts of his bed rattle. The covers weren't nearly thick enough to keep out the invading cold air that seeped through a miniscule crack in a window. Trees were slapping against the To add to it all, Francis couldn't stop thinking. A few tears were starting to soak into his pillow as he relived the past few years of fighting and bickering with Arthur. It should have been nothing, just a small argument, but the fighting escalated into war, which he had lost inevitably.

"That obnoxious Brit," he thought to himself. "All I wanted was a little bit of control over his little brother. Really, why couldn't we just have shared him? He's too adorable not to want as a child. It's not like he had to attack me over it. Not only that, but now he's going to take him. I'll be alone once again–"

There was a soft knock on the door to his room. Francis took a deep breath in, relaxing himself, and sat up in bed. He stretched his arms above his head and released them, calming his tense body. "Come in," he said groggily.

The door cracked open and allowed in a sliver of yellow light from the hall. A little boy walked in, wearing a silky blue nightgown and hugging a small stuffed bear, with fur as white as the snow outside, to his tiny heaving chest.

"What's wrong, mon petit Matthieu?" Francis said, standing up from the warmth of his bed and coming towards the child. He knelt before him and gave his messy hair a little tousle.

"I-I can't sleep, papa," he whimpered, looking up at the Frenchman through frightened violet eyes.

Francis mustered a weak smile. "I can't sleep either, mon ange," he whispered. He gently grabbed they boy's small hand within his own, feeling its soft warmth. "This could be one of the last times… I hold him…" He shook the thought out of his head. "Is it the wind keeping you awake?"

Matthew nodded, clutching his bear even tighter as a tree smacked the window outside. "Can… can I sleep in here?"

"Of course, Matthieu. You are always welcome here." He picked the small boy up in his arms and sat him on the bedside. Matthew rolled over to one side of the bed and lay there, watching quietly as Francis lay down next to him, crawling underneath the covers and laying his head on his pillow once again. It was silent for a moment. Only the wind raised its voice, wailing cries of loneliness outside the warm walls of the house.

"How can I tell him?" Francis wondered as he drifted into sleep. "What will I say tomorrow? He won't understand what's happening. He'll hate me forever. I'll never speak to him again. And what if Arthur depreciates him? I don't want to lose him…"

"Papa…"

"Yes, mon ange?"

"W-why are you crying? Does the storm scare you, too?"

Francis turned to face his little brother as his eyes began to puff up slightly with redness. "Non, I am thinking. That's all."

"I was thinking, too. I wasn't really scared of the storm. I…I'm sorry I lied to you." The boy clung to the sheets of the bed and pulled them up to his face, so only his eyes were visible.

Francis sat up once again. His head ached as he did so. "That's okay, Matthieu. Do you want to talk to me about it?" The boy nodded. Francis patted his hand next to him. "Here, you can come sit by me and we can talk."

Matthew crawled over and set himself next to his papa. He leaned against his chest tiredly and began to speak very softly. "There was one time… it was this week… you came home… and you… you were…" he stopped and thought, small tears filling his young eyes. "You were hurting. It scared me. You said you would be there for me… and you almost weren't, I could tell. You looked sad…why were you hurting, papa?"

Francis heaved a heavy sigh. The scars of the last fight he had fought were still burned into his skin, forever marking his failures. What could he tell him? How could he even begin?

"Mon ange… I was in an argument with Arthur. Do you remember Arthur, from when we first met?"

Matthew nodded. Francis closed his eyes and continued.

"He has a little brother too. I wanted to get to know him, but… but he kept thinking I was taking him from him. So we started fighting. I lost that fight that day." He looked to Matthew with sorrow in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Matthieu. I never intended to frighten you like that."

"So that means you won't leave me alone, papa?"

"Yes, I will. There isn't even a way around it. I want to love you, Matthieu. I need to. But there are things that must be settled. It will be better, though, I promise. Please. Please forgive me."

"No," he lied. "I would never leave you alone."

A/N: And there's the beginnings of this story. More chapters are to come within time, even if it takes a while... thank you so much for reading!