Deep down, Arthur knew he didn't hate his decision to forgo a life of seclusion when he chose to leave his small hometown and to see the world. His mother had allowed him the option to stay with her and practice his magic or venturing out with his father. Although he cared for her and wished to progress his skills, he was eager to see what lay beyond the sea that surrounded his home. With that, he packed up what few possessions he had, tied his green cloak about his neck and turned his attention to the land that lay just beyond the horizon.
It wasn't long after his arrival that he met another young man and it didn't take him long after that to decide he disliked this person. He wore expensive and fancy clothes and would casually toss his long hair while he spoke of himself, beauty, and his ability to charm and romance anything with a pulse. They fought and argued over anything they could find that they thought the other valued, continually challenging each other and throwing around insults. Arthur didn't know when it was, nor did he care to admit it, that Francis's charms between the bickering had won him over. Eventually the pair realized that they worked well together despite their differences. When Francis mentioned an interest in a distant city that held a lot of promise Arthur was quick to join him.
They took up residence in a small house that they purchased together not far from the city center, but far enough to offer a green yard surrounding their home. Arthur found work in a large corporation and quickly moved up the ranks to a well paid position while Francis started a small, yet rather successful bakery.
There came an evening when the two strolled along the city streets, walking at a comfortable pace side by side and challenging any that dared even consider anything more was between them (although any outside observer knew better). As they enjoyed the cool evening and, forever denying it, each other's company, they heard a loud crashing sound from a nearby alley that led off from the park they were traversing. The men were startled and, after the shock had passed, they realized that the start had caused them to clutch to each other and quickly drew away to search out the source of the noise.
Cautiously peering into the darkened alley, they found the cause of the crash had come from a large metal dumpster being dropped on its side. As the duo wondered, a small boy appeared carrying several cardboard boxes that he stacked carefully on top of others all ready piled against the opposing wall with a large smile on his face a glimmer in his blue eyes.
A gasp caused the boy to jerk his head to meet the pair that stood not far off, worry causing creases in his features and he stepped back to put himself between them and the cardboard fort, not removing his eyes from them. The men assumed his protectiveness was concerning his find until a shift in a few of the boxes revealed another child, almost identical save for violet eyes.
No discussion was necessary and it was one of the few things the men unconditionally agreed on. Four journeyed home that evening.
Arthur didn't regret these decisions. He did, however, question them.
It wasn't all the time. It came when Francis discussed his clients, commenting on the beauty of a particular woman who ordered a cake or the attractiveness of a man who delivered raw goods. It came when Alfred would have a fit and break something large, or when his actions caused his brother to suffer the wrath of bullies before the house would become uncharacteristically quiet and the phone began to ring with angry parents. There would also be the times when Arthur would wait impatiently for Matthew to speak up but watched with dismay as the child would instead either stare or run off, melding into the background as he went.
It was at a particular Christmas that things became out of hand.
"And then, this superhero came! And he had a cape! And a mask! And could fly!"
"Yes, yes." Arthur said absent mindedly as he moved around the sitting room picking up. Alfred's stories were often quite similar and he could generally figure out the endings before the child finished. Hero's always saved the day.
"When can we open presents?"
"On Christmas Alfred. You know that."
"Awe! But that's so far away! Can't we open one early?" Alfred whined. "Please?" he clasped his hands together pleading.
"No, Alfred. You can wait three more days." Arthur glanced back at him before turning and stopping just short of stepping on Matthew who had suddenly appeared out of thin air in front of him. He looked up at Arthur letting his eyes go wide as he made a dangerously adorable imploring look.
Arthur quickly shut his eyes and shook his head, lest he succumb to a fate worse than those who had gazed upon Medusa. "Both of you can wait until then, and you will not go searching for them in the meantime." Arthur and Francis had become quite skilled in finding innovative hiding places for things since a lock wouldn't stop a child that could simply take the door off its hinges.
Arthur realized he couldn't continue what he was doing before with his eyes closed and cautiously peeked. The twins stood pouting but were glancing at each other, hints of an unspoken scheme developing between them.
"Instead, why don't the both of you help me clean?" he suggested before they could get too far in their planning. "We have guests coming for dinner and-" he realized he was speaking only to himself in an empty room. Arthur sighed and resumed his cleaning.
Dinner consisted of his family plus the addition of Francis' two closest friends. After gathering around the large table Francis watched in dismay as Alfred heaped his plate with the unhealthiest things on the table and Matthew emptied a bottle of maple syrup on his own. Arthur caught the face that Francis made; he was still being blamed for the time he made dinner for the twins while Francis was sick.
"Antonio, where is Lovino this evening?" Francis implored, turning his attention away from the disrespect of a descent meal to his spacy friend. Years prior, Antonio wasn't so absent-minded, however, Arthur during his more rebellious teenage years had fought with the Spaniard and had at one point given the man a serious concussion. His altered behavior had left Francis a bit guilty and he remained in contact with the man to keep an eye on him, but ended up liking the new Antonio better.
"He's spending Christmas with his brother this year, and I believe Ludwig as well." Antonio smiled in reply before remarking on the adorable boys. Arthur gave him a steely eyed glare from his seat across the table, warning the offending man that he was willing to momentarily forget his gentlemanly ways in favor of finishing what he had started years prior. Antonio was completely oblivious.
"Is that true Gilbert?" Francis hurriedly asked noticing the doom that surrounded the Englishman. "My, they're fairly close now, non?"
"Yeah, never see my brother around as much any more." Gilbert huffed.
The remainder of dinner passed by quickly and ended with Francis begging Arthur to allow him to head out for drinks. Arthur replied that he didn't care what the Frenchman did, turning away with the dishes to clean, pausing only to glare at Antonio, who was attempting a conversation with Alfred, and Gilbert, who was watching Matthew tend to his bear.
"Merci, mon lapin. Don't wait up." Francis gave a playful wink and threw him a kiss.
"As if I would." He called over his shoulder to the closing door.
After chasing Alfred and searching for Matthew, the twins were in bed and exhausted Arthur collapsed into a peaceful sleep.
The following morning proved that Francis had not returned during the night. Arthur pulled boxes of sugared cereal for the young boys as they wouldn't accept much more than that from him after what was known in the house as the "burnt dinner incident."
Trying to replace his worry with anger, Arthur dutifully sat by Francis' work phone taking messages from customers making last-minute orders before Christmas eve. Between calls, he quietly watched the boys coloring in a rare moment of calm in the house.
It was late morning before Francis stumbled back into the house to meet the demanding expression of a very angry Englishman. Matthew noticed the potentially dangerous stance and decided to get both himself and his brother away in the only way his completely oblivious brother would move; he reached across the table and snatched away the crayon Alfred was clutching and, using what little time he had, ran from the room while Alfred was still registering what was happening.
Their absence was overlooked by the warring adults. Francis had attempted to explain the previous nights events (they had involved an inebriated Prussian and the night in lock-up for disturbing the peace) in a calm manner and attempting to soothe the angry man but his words had no effect and they were now in a name-calling yelling match that was sure to lead to physical blows had it not been for the ringing of the phone in the other room. Hostilities briefly on hold while Francis left the room to answer it, Arthur simmered in his anger only for it to be completely forgotten when Matthew became attached to his leg. The small blonde was shaking and tears were forming making him look quite pitiful. Before Arthur could get any information from him there was a loud banging on their front door and Matthew stiffened at the sound.
Opening the door revealed a neighbor from down the street and Arthur could only assume he was cross as his face always seemed to bear a lack of facial expressions beyond the usual scowl. There was a small twitch causing his eyebrows to furrow further when he noticed the boy still clutching to Arthur's trousers.
It was the usual complaints of destruction of property that they normally received from neighbors, Arthur thought it over wearily, and there was only one child with the strength and uncoordination to pull off such a feat. The one present had neither capability.
"This one is often mistaken for his brother, " Arthur started, having to tilt his head back to look up at the tall man, "but when I find him, I will have him sent over to help clean up." This seemed to satisfy the man as he said nothing more and walked off the porch towards his own home.
A migraine was forming at Arthur's temple as he growled and shut the door. It was still morning and he had errands to run. Francis was still on the phone in the other room and Mathew was still trembling but was now opting for his bear than Arthur when Alfred walked into the room. The Briton started his usual lecture about responsibility but was surprised when Alfred reacted differently to the scolding, with an air of indifference and perhaps a hint of defiance. What shocked him further was when the child began to argue back.
Francis reentered the room shortly thereafter, willing to continue their earlier dispute and joined into the one now underway. Matthew for once in his short life was glad he never received any attention and watched in silence.
"How is it you can argue like this with me?!" Arthur yelled across the room at the boy who glared back at him.
"I believe you can take the credit for that." Francis answered, his tone icy and devoid of any of his playfulness.
Arthur had no response to that and, being further infuriated, chose instead for a growl and stomping out of the house, grabbing his jacket on the way and nearly knocking over Matthew who was trying to scurry out of the path of the irate man.
Alastair was never particularly happy with his lot in life. As such, he was often quite grumpy and could often snap at people he felt deserved it. He felt he couldn't truly be blamed for it.
His first major complaint was because he was a fairy, emphasis on that he was male. Due to this he had always found that most people had assumed that he was fond of sparkles and spending time in nature with the friendlier forest creatures. He had moved away from his homeland after a particularly nasty incident where he attacked a man who had remarked on his stature as being dainty. After he left, he had headed to an area with as few other mystical creatures as possible and had spent his days causing mischief on the people who couldn't see him and didn't believe in his existence.
This was a wonderful plan, except it was now ruined this evening by a drunk Englishman who had berated him with a tale of woe while downing pints.
"And so…" the man slurred, his face flushed. "That's how I ended up here." He placed his head down on the bar.
Oh, good. He was finally done.
"Why exactly are you telling me your problems?" Alastair grumbled while stealing some of the alcohol out of his glass. He felt he deserved it after listening to the guy complain for a few hours.
"I spend so much time taking care of them." Arthur continued, not hearing the fairy. " I don't ever have any time for myself. I used to be really good at spell casting you know." Alastair watched with amusement as the man behind the counter watched the drunken Briton, unknowing of who was on the receiving end of the conversation. " I had a choice you know. I could have stayed at home. Maybe it would have been better if I had…"
"What do I look like to you? A Genie?" You made your choices. Get over it." Alastair felt no need for bedside manner after listening to griping and sobbing after what had promised to be a decent evening.
Then a terrible idea popped into Alastair's warped little mind. "Arthur," he began, attempting a normal smile, however it came out rather strangely, 'What if I could show you what your life would have been if you had never left?" Oh, he hadn't had this much fun in a long time and this man had made him grumpier than usual.
"How could you do that?" Arthur swayed a bit on his stool.
"Hmm… " Alastair hummed in mock thought. "Like this."
To everyone else at the pub that night, it simply looked as though a completely wasted individual had fallen off his bar stool and hit his head on the corner of the counter, not knowing that bad-tempered fairies can have terrible right hooks.
Arthur woke with a start from his chair, knocking the heavy tome out of his lap to the floor.
"Uncle Arthur! You promised you would teach me today!"
The knocking continued and Arthur shuffled across the room to open the door for his nephew. "Peter, must you be so loud this morning?"
"But Uncle Arthur! You promised you would teach me a new summoning spell today! And I wanted to get here as early as possible to learn it." His nephew was always so eager for anything.
Yawning, Arthur let him in and set him down with a few books to look over and then was busy gathering materials and making tea. At one point, he caught himself gazing out of one of the windows of his cabin letting his mind wander while he looked at the water of one of the local lochs. There was something tugging at the back of the spell caster's mind, something that he felt he was forgetting but he couldn't seem to put his finger on it.
Peter was sent home around early afternoon. His lesson concluded for the day when the novice nearly summoned a large demonic creature. Arthur had been able stop it before the summons could be complete, but not before a large amount of snow had filled the inside of the room, billowing out from the circle.
Arthur sat down at his small wooden table with a cup of strong tea while he attempted to forget the near disaster of that morning. Something was still bothering him and he sipped his tea and tried to think of what it was.
"Is this life any better for you?"
Arthur spun around in his chair to meet the grumpy fairy who was sitting on the shelf. Alastair had one eyebrow raised in the question he delivered and watched as Arthur suddenly recalled his previous life's events.
"You!" Arthur had suddenly recalled the event just before his loss of consciousness it seemed. "You hit me! You damn-"
"Really now? That isn't necessary. You have what you wanted. This is your life if you had decided to stay. I don't understand what you have to be angry about. I suppose it's just your nature…"
"Your one to talk you git!" The irritating fairy just laughed as the Englishman continued to swear at him.
"You asked for it. Or do you not remember that?"
"I was drunk! You can't take that seriously!"
"Actually, I surprised you remembered much of any of that. How many drinks did you have again? I believe I lost count while you were whining about your family." Arthur let out a snarl and made a motion to throw something at the fairy, but Alastair held up a hand to stop him. " I wasn't finished. This is your life. You moved further north and studied magic becoming the most promising sorcerer in the entire land. The only people you ever had contact with were your extended family including that wonderful 'prodigy' of a nephew of yours. You don't know what was going to come through that portal." Alastair shuddered at the thought.
Arthur took it all in. The cabin was quiet for a time while he thought. "What about Francis?"
"What about him? You never met the man."
"But what happened to him?"
"What do you care? He runs off with his friends and forgets to call remember?"
"Doesn't mean I don't care about that stupid frog."
Alastair laughed. "Well, I could tell you what happened to him." Arthur met the fairy's gaze. "Or I could show you."
Arthur glared. "If it involves you punching me again I would prefer it if you would just tell me."
"Nothing quite so terrible. For now anyways."
There was no trusting the fairy. Arthur tied his familiar green cloak on and looked at Alastair expectantly. With a snap of the small fairy's fingers the room began to distort from the interior of the cabin into a new scene. When things finally stopped moving, the cabin in the highlands was gone and he now was now standing outside the back entrance to a large mansion.
"Where am…" Arthur began, but the evil little fairy was nowhere to be seen. Cursing his luck and small magical beings with no compassion, he didn't notice another presence stop behind him.
"Can I help you?"
That voice could only belong to one Frenchman and Arthur couldn't help but grin as he turned. "Francis!"
Francis let his gaze wander up and down the form of the strange man. "Hmm… I don't remember having made your acquaintance before. I'm sure I would have remembered something as prominent as your hideous eyebrows."
Of course, Francis never changed. "I don't think we have met, however I doubt a frog such as you would be able to remember any of the company he keeps."
Francis grinned at the scowl that Arthur made at him. "Of course I'd love to stay out here with you, but unless you require the help that you so desperately need, I have matters to attend to inside." Arthur saw no other option but to follow his long time friend inside the large building. He must be doing well for himself without me around, Arthur considered as he looked around the large kitchen while Francis worked on several small baked creations.
"Oi! Francis! You almost finished in there?" They were joined by the loud albino and Arthur straightened at his entrance. Gilbert and Francis weren't together he hoped, checking to see how Francis reacted to the arrival and trying to consider that they could be room mates. Not that he cared, he reminded himself.
Gilbert paused as he looked at Arthur. "I didn't realize you had a guest. Must be why you're taking so long." Gilbert grinned as he studied Arthur, "Not your usual type, is he?"
"He's nothing of the sort." Francis answered quickly. "He's deranged and is following me around."
"I am not!" Arthur yelled causing Francis to chuckle.
"Well, whatever he is doesn't matter so long as you get everything together. You know how Antonio gets when we take too long to bring him anything."
"Antonio?!" Arthur looked between the pair. "Don't tell me you work for him!"
They both blinked at the clearly crazed man. "Of course we do. Who else did you think owned this huge house?" Gilbert started.
"Perhaps there's someone we can call for you?" Francis finished placing a beautiful arrangement of pastries on a tray. "Why don't you wait here while we take these in and when we return we'll get you sorted out. Don't touch anything that has a sharp edge."
Arthur crossed his arms. "I expect you'll be telling me next not to run with them as well?"
Francis winked. "If I must. Now really do stay here and try not to get into any trouble." The duo left with Gilbert asking none too softly if it really was alright to leave him there.
"Ah yes, I can see how the two of you became close."
Arthur shot a look at the fairy. "Would you mind just filling me in on what's going on here?"
"Demanding aren't you? Well, as it would turn out without the brain trauma Antonio managed to take over the area as the wealthiest and most powerful man. He's built this large mansion and employed several under him including your Francis."
"He's not mine…" Arthur grumbled at the smug look on the fairy before choosing to look out of the windows in the kitchen. The scenery in the distance, beyond the sprawling landscape that made up the Spaniard's property, was familiar to him. "Wait…." Arthur studied the mountain range to be sure, "Francis never left. He's still in our old city."
"I would be impressed if I didn't find you so annoying. Indeed, Francis stayed here. Antonio only really travels to the new place for business; he was never looking to settle there."
"But…. Alfred and Matthew… they…" Arthur started. Even if he wasn't around, Francis should have still been able to care for them. But if the Frenchman had never left, then did that mean that the two small boys were still living by themselves? What if no one else had come along to care for them?
Arthur glanced at Alastair who didn't seem at all moved. The small fairy simple grinned like the little demon he was and raised his hand to snap his fingers. The kitchen began to distort and change until Arthur once again found himself standing outside, this time next to a do-it-yourself store.
"Hey you! You look really funny. You should come and buy something."
Arthur turned to face a tall grinning man, his blonde hair as uncontrolled as his personality. "I'm not interested." Arthur stated simply and moved to get away from the loud man.
The man was not one to give up and tried again. Alastair, who had grown tired decided to rest on Arthur's shoulder and looked at the other man's friend who was looking at Alastair with interest. Alastair rolled his eyes. Great, another person who could see him. He decided after this little adventure he was going to leave this city and not look back.
"Leave him alone. He's not interested." The taller man turned to face his friend. He had barely gotten a word out to argue when the shorter man had him by his tie, intent on choking him, the bored look on his face never-changing.
Arthur watched in amazement. These people were obviously crazy. A quick glance around revealed that the others that were there were just as strange: a younger man looked as though he had to be related to the second as he looked on with a similar bored expression, and a panicking man with brown eyes left his tall and very scary friend in a rush to try to get the first two to stop fighting. Arthur used the distraction to his advantage and ducked around the side of the store into an alley.
"They're loads of fun."
Arthur stopped panting for a moment. "Then why would you have dropped me off right next to them?"
"I was getting you as close as I could to who you are looking for. You should be thanking me."
"Thanking you is the last thing I will ever do!"
Arthur stopped and looked around. It was as he feared; he was standing in an alley somewhere. This could only mean that the boys had never been found and were still living on the streets. The Englishman felt a pain in his chest at the thought.
A back door to the shop with the five men in it opened and the cheerful looking one glanced around before placing a small box on the door step and stepping back inside. Arthur was initially confused, but things became clear when a small boy appeared next to the box and began pulling out food items and eating them quickly. It took a moment for Arthur to recognize him without the bear he always carried around, but there was no denying who it was.
"Matthew?" Arthur barely managed to choke out.
Matthew froze and blinked several times. No one had called him by his name in a long time. He slowly looked up at Arthur, and as a precaution prepared should he need to escape. There was a long silence where neither moved.
"Matthew." Arthur tried again, this time a bit clearer and took a step towards the child. Matthew reacted by fleeing down the alleyway. "Matthew! Wait!" but said blonde didn't stop and vanished from sight as he retreated away from the man and fairy.
"Why is he alone?" Alastair turned his head at the sound, but Arthur was looking only at the spot where Matthew had disappeared.
"You of all people should know that everyone only ever sees Alfred. "
"But the shopkeeper? He is leaving out food, but why isn't he taking them in?"
"Tried to several times, but this was the best that they could do. That kid's afraid of everything."
Arthur took in a shaky breath. "And where is Alfred?"
Rather than a response, the scenery changed once again, this time to a nice home in a neighborhood near where his family's had been. Arthur stepped over the bed of tulips to peer into the window closest to him. The room beyond the glass was plain, containing basic furniture and neutral colored walls. Along the back wall at a desk Arthur spied who he was searching for. Alfred was facing away from him, working on something intently.
"Alfred, as you can see, has found a home where he is taken care of." Alastair sat on the window sill and watched Arthur's face.
Arthur studied the room. Something about it seemed off, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Alfred got up and carried something out of the room and Arthur snuck around the house eventually catching a glimpse of the boy who was now in the sitting room attempting to gain the attentions of a tall man with a scar on his forehead and pipe in his hand. Alfred lifted what he was holding up to show the man, who dismissed him with a wave of his hand and continued what he had been previously working on. Alfred turned and shuffled back the way he came with his head down.
Carefully moving back the previous window, Alastair mentioned a story concerning how the Dutch man had come to control one twin and disregard the other, but Arthur barely paid any attention when Alfred reentered what he assumed was the child's room. Arthur watched sadly as the boy looked over a crayon picture in his hands before crumpling it up and placing it the bin beside his desk and laying down on the bed facing the wall. The walls, Arthur suddenly thought. They were all a beige color and were void of any of the usual things that he was used to seeing covering Alfred's walls: posters featuring men in heroic poses, pictures of various strange creatures Alfred would claim existed in space, stains from large amount of accidents the child always seemed to have with anything spillable, and a ceiling full of glow in the dark stars as they were one of his favorite things.
"And you're not even listening to me… You're so rude…"
Arthur was pulled out his musings by the grumpy fairy who just looked crossly at him. "Well, I suppose that's everyone you care about, so that's it for the tour." And Arthur once again found himself in the small cabin he had begun the day in.
"What happens now?" Arthur questioned with a sigh.
"What do you mean, what happens now? Really, are you that dense? This is your life now. You asked for it and I delivered." Arthur looked up in shock. No, he wasn't really going to be stuck here was he?
"Oh? That's quite a face you're making. I thought you would be pleased." The fairy smirked. "But I can't do anything about it now, so see ya!" And was gone.
Arthur was still for several minutes. That was it ? One drunken wish and he had lost everything? His eyes started traveling around the cabin taking everything in. The sun was beginning to set and the light was dimming inside of the room.
His eyes stopped on the fridge in his kitchen, smaller and more old-fashioned than what Francis preferred (although it would do the job just fine he would have argued) and looked empty without the pictures drawn in bright colors with heavy emphasis on his eye brows in the family portraits and the suggestive notes that Francis would leave and Arthur would hide to avoid questions from Alfred and Matthew. He still wasn't looking forward to the day he would have to have "the talk" and he was debating whether it would be better if Francis gave it. Most likely it would be worse. He froze at the thought when he remembered that they were no longer there.
He headed towards a large chair, glancing at the stacks of books and bottles that replaced the toys that he always wanted to give to the boys. He felt miserable at the thought of what he was missing. There were no alluring scents wafting from the kitchen and no cringe worth crashing sounds coming from various rooms. He realized with a sigh that he wouldn't have to answer to Alfred's teachers having to explain that the child should never be given anything saturated in sugar or red food dye, he wouldn't have to try to sneak into Matthew's room while he slept to pry Kumajiro away from him so he could be washed, and Francis wasn't waiting for him with an insult or perverted comment at the end of the day.
He looked towards the fireplace set in the wall across the room from him. It lacked the familiar portrait that had summed up their dysfunctional family rather well: the four were sat on the couch together, however Francis' wandering hands were headed towards Arthur, Alfred had jumped up in excitement and hyper-activeness, and Arthur was frowning and reprimanding Alfred. Matthew had been the only one ready, smiling sweetly towards the camera, but he was overshadowed by the other three and hidden from view. Arthur smiled at the thought of his strange family before tears began to fall down his face. The light was nearly gone but he couldn't care any less.
"You should see your face now."
Arthur jerked his head at the cackling laughter of Alastair who was across the room and was fluttering towards him slowly.
"Like I have the power to actually alter your life. You give me too much credit." Alastair grinned.
"Wait, so what's really happening?" Arthur's tone was flat but there was a small hopeful hint to it if you were listening closely.
"You've just been unconscious and I've just been showing you things in your head."
Arthur was silent for all of three seconds before he decided that if this wasn't real he was going to murder that traitorous fairy now.
"You bloody git!"
Alastair laughed some more before he leveled his gaze back at Arthur and in a serious tone told him, "This is because you are one annoying drunk. Seriously, don't come looking for me after this."
Arthur had only managed a few more curse words before Alastair demonstrated that his left hook was just as good as his right.
Arthur opened his eyes. The room was dimly lit and it took a moment for him to get his bearings and realize that it was a hospital room. Everything was quiet, but he could hear the small sighs of people asleep nearby. He looked down to see two small heads nestled up against him and a third was in a chair pulled up against the bed he was reclined in.
Arthur squeezed the hand that was holding his and the man in the chair opened his eyes to meet Arthur's green pair looking back at him. Francis sat upright and relief filled his face. "You're awake! You had us all worried, mon cher."
"How long was I out?"
"One day. I got the call late last night after they admitted you and they had gone through your wallet for your ID. They had said you should wake up soon, so we've been here all day. Had to pay them with ice cream to get them to leave the other residents alone." Francis nodded to the innocent looking twins. "They did work over the nurses with their usual tactics to allow us to stay the night in your room though."
Arthur used his free hand to stroke one of the heads sleeping on him before reaching up and touching the sore area of his face and wincing at the pain.
"Looks like you got into quite the fight. Don't worry, it doesn't mare your looks since you really didn't have much to begin with."
Arthur glared at him and called him a bastard. "What time is it anyway?"
Francis glanced his watch. "After midnight. Officially Christmas."
Arthur nodded. "We should spend it at home. They should let me out in the morning and I want to be together with all of you for the day."
Francis was quiet for a moment. "I know we had we had such a terrible fight the other day-"
"Never mind that. I know we're not the best of family's but I've realized how important you all are to me. And how much my choices have affected all of you, but I wouldn't take any of them back because the other options are much worse."
"You are so full of yourself. The world does not revolve around you, mon lapin."
"We're having a sentimental moment. Don't ruin it, frog. And while we're at it, you had better not have done anything to me while I was unconscious."
Francis laughed and the strange little family got some rest together once again.
"And another place to put a large X over" Alastair took a pen to his map. "Hmm… Perhaps somewhere warmer this next time?" He pondered for a moment before giving up and grabbing his small bag. He grinned at bit at the mischief he had caused. Best Christmas he had had in years.
Author's Note:
I hope that was not too terrible. I'm rubbish at endings, and I was attempting something a bit longer. I was meaning to put this up before Christmas (since it takes place leading up to the day) but circumstances didn't allow for it. Ah, well...
The idea is loosely based off of the old classic film "It's a Wonderful Life" but with a grouchy fairy co-staring. I'm rather found of Alastair now.
Hopefully the vague references made sense: Peter (Sealand) almost summoned Russia. The five crazies with the do-it-yourself store are the Nordics (in order of appearance: Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Finland, Sweden. I love them.). And America was living with Netherlands.
I also apologize if any French references are incorrect. The only things I know are 'thank you,' 'exit,' and 'your place or mine.' (You know, the, uh, important sayings?)