What the Fricken-Fracken-FrUK? FACE family fic.
Author's note: I wasn't sure quite how to do this but I really wanted to try this idea out. It's a bit different from the initial idea but I think it's better. I wanted to do something extra special since pyromaniacqueen has been so patient (I'm slower than a walrus on skis). :) I hope you like it!~ And if you don't I'll go sit in my emo corner and write some emo fanfiction.
This is an AU fic, if you don't like it I'll re-do this one shot.
One shot for pyromaniacqueen :D
Arthur Kirkland had done a lot of things in the past, but none bothered him as much as this. It was painful to think about, and even more painful to cry about. He wished he had a different choice, he really did, but he couldn't even begin to think of one.
Living in a family full of adopted kids was always a little bit rough but this situation definitely took the cake.
Arthur had been adopted by Anita Kirkland when he was 4 years old. She'd always wanted children but was never able to have any of her own due to complications, complications other than her lack of boyfriends. She had been kind and caring to him all his life. He grew up as any other child would, he went to school and got fair grades and was scolded when they slipped any further than that. He had a good life.
Then, when he was 14, she adopted twins by the names of Alfred Jones and Matthew Williams. It was his understanding that the birth parents had named them separately because they were going to be divorced soon and then they had them taken away because the government found them to be unfit parents. Anita had let the twins keep their names since their parents had gone through all that trouble in the first place. The twins were about 2 years old when Anita adopted them.
At first, Arthur despised the idea of having brothers. He'd stomped up to his room the first night Anita had brought them home. He later even accused her of never loving him in a fit of rage. And Anita had punished him accordingly.
As punishment, Arthur would have to stay home and watch the two kids while Anita went on a date. Arthur was furious but he dared not make her any angrier. So Anita left, kissing all three of her adopted sons on their foreheads, much to Arthurs dislike.
Arthur tried to ignore the small boys as they played with their toys on the ground. He called a friend and went in the other room to talk. Not ten minutes later, Arthur heard crying in the next room. Arthur put down the phone in a huff and stormed into the living room. And his heart all but dropped out of his butt.
Matthew was crying softly next to his brother Alfred while clutching onto a white stuffed bear. Alfred was making an awful hiccupping noise and was turning blue rapidly. Arthur scrambled to him, clutching him in his arms he quickly dialed for emergency services. He listened carefully as they talked him through what to do. By the time the paramedics arrived, Arthur had removed the small object from Alfred's throat and was quite pale in the face.
After that night, Arthur paid much more attention to the kids, especially Alfred, and learned to love them. With Anita working a full time job and a part-time job every other weekend of the month, Arthur had to take care of the children a great deal of the time. Arthur found it annoying sometimes but, for the most part, he loved spending time with them. They were family, after all.
Now, everything was changing rapidly. It had been several years since then and Arthur had gone off to college and the twins had started their third year at primary school. Arthur was a sophomore in college and now and lived on his own. He had been living fairly well off for the past 2 years, but that all changed with one phone call.
Anita Kirkland was dead. In a collision with a drunk driver on her way to work the one night that she was working graveyard. She was gone. And he now had a boatload on his plate which forced him to drop all but one class so that he could manage it all. He had to call relatives, make an appointment with someone to see about her will, plan a funeral, and, worst of all, he had two young kids in his lap asking for their mommy.
A month after the funeral.
Arthur woke groggily to the sound of his alarm ringing irritably. Arthur wacked the clock and swung his feet onto the cold floor. It was time to start his very long day. Arthur dressed mechanically and went out to make breakfast. Or rather, put pop-tarts in the toaster oven, he'd made Matthew sick with his cooking last time. He went into the twins' room and shook the kids awake gently, and with bribery in Alfred's case.
After breakfast he got them dressed, amazingly got Alfred to brush his teeth, and bustled them out to the car to head off to school. The pulled up and hopped out. Arthur ruffled their hair and told them to 'be good' and 'do all their work' and to 'play well with others' and all that jazz. Arthur then drove off to his one class of the day.
Cooking Class.
A class that Arthur desperately needed if he was going to continue to feed the twins; he couldn't feed them pop-tarts and instant mac 'n cheese all their lives. But it was also the class he was not only failing but he also hated it with a passion. Why was that? Two words, one name:
"Bonjour, mon ami!"
Francis Bonnefoy.
"What do you want frog?" Arthur spat at the Frenchman. Francis put an arm around his shoulders.
"To sail away with you on a cruise ship, mon ami!" Francis said dramatically. Arthur shoved him off.
"Yeah right, don't give me that you wanker, I know what you're after." Arthur said speeding up, Francis on his heels.
"What could you possibly mean, my little Englishman." Francis asked sweetly.
"Don't call me that, and you know damn well what I mean."
"But you speak with such a cute posh English accent, mon ami." It was true, Arthur had a British accent, but that was because he'd been raised in England for 10 years before they'd moved here, he and his mother had dual citizenship in both England and America. Well, he had dual citizenship.
"Still, don't call me that." Arthur snapped. They reached the classroom with a good 5 minute wait for it to start. The flamboyant Frenchman followed and sat next to him on the bench adjacent to the class. He enjoyed reading a bit before class.
"What do you want Francis? I really would rather be alone right now." Arthur sighed.
"Is it wrong to want to be near you?"
"Why would you want to be near me?"
"Because whenever you are near birds suddenly appear!" Sang Francis a little too loudly. Arthur smacked him on the top of the head with his book; his only regret was that today's book was a paperback.
"Bugger off frog." Arthur opened his book and started to read despite the fact that Francis was still sitting next to him.
"'Aspect's to Raising a Child'? What are you reading that for?" Francis asked peering over the edge of his book.
"None of your business." Arthur looked down at his watch and rose from his seat. "Class is starting."
Francis Bonnefoy was probably best known as a lecher.
He hit on just about everything that moved, male or female, and he always got what he wanted. Whether it was just to prove to his two best friends that he could get with them or whether he wanted sex, he always got what he wanted.
Except when it came to Arthur Kirkland that is.
Francis had been put down on offers before Arthur came into his sights but they never seemed to be able to resist his charm a second or third time. Not Arthur though, no, he had been turning down Francis since their junior year of high school. No matter what Francis did Arthur always ignored him or told him off. Arthur had been very cold towards him. He'd even dumped a bowl of punch on him at a dance.
Despite all that though, Francis refused to give up. In fact, it seemed the more he turned him down, the more Francis wanted him. And, of course, Francis would fall in love with this man who made it quite obvious he didn't want anything to do with Francis at all.
Francis realized he was in love with Arthur their first year of college together. Francis hadn't been expecting to see the Englishman there, it was a complete shock. Francis had some strange thoughts that day. He thought about how nice he looked even without meaning to. He thought about how he wanted to ruffle the man's already frayed hair. By the time Francis realized what he was doing he was in front of Arthur, grinning like a fool, hitting on him again just like old times. And, just like old times, Arthur turned him down.
Francis loved every second spent being ripped to shreds by the Englishman's words, just for the sake of hearing his cute voice and his snobby way of speaking. Francis couldn't even begin to describe the feeling he got by just sitting next to him.
Eventually, Francis grew bored chasing anyone else and he focused solely on trying to get Arthur to warm up to him. Which, to his surprise, was beginning to work. Arthur didn't scowl at him quite as much; he even smiled a few times. Progress was slow but Francis could see he was getting somewhere.
Until about two months ago. Arthur returned to his old ways. He scowled at him and almost never smiled. He'd even taken to hitting Francis. Never hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that Francis got his point of "Go the fuck away." What surprised Francis the most was when Arthur started getting mad at his actual friends. He would yell at them for making small mistakes or forgetting things that weren't even his problem.
Arthur had never been a very angry person, just sarcastic and a tad cynical. Francis could see that there was something wrong, he could see that something was very wrong indeed.
After a long day of school and work, all Arthur wanted to do was go home and relax in his favorite chair with a cup of tea and his book. Too bad for him though, he had an appointment with a social worker this particular afternoon and had to be there at 6:00 sharp. He cut out early on his job and rushed home to make himself look presentable. Then, with an exhausted sigh, he headed out the door to the Social Services office.
When he arrived at the building he was greeted by a secretary that had one phone pressed to her ear and another in her hand, texting as fast as she possibly could without getting caught. He took a seat in the stiff chair provided, like the ones they use in hospitals except not as bouncy. The place smelled clean, fresh paper and plastic plants clean.
Arthur hated waiting rooms like these; they reminded him of his childhood. Mostly from when he was young and had seen ghosts. He'd usually kept it to himself, the sighting of ghosts in the orphanage, until one got him in trouble by knocking over a shelf. When Arthur had tried to explain what had happened the kids all gave him weird looks and the adults looked at each other like he was crazy. He'd started seeing a psychologist after that incident for 3 months. He'd kept his mouth shut about any 'sightings' he'd had since then.
The only good thing that came out of it was that he'd met Anita there. She'd been working as the secretary, she wasn't very good at it; she'd given him a lollipop one day while he was waiting for his session to start.
"Sir?" Arthur looked up at the secretary, still in a slight daze.
"Miss Dumay will see you now." She motioned him to the door to her left before going back to texting.
Arthur felt his mouth run dry as he opened the door into a tidy office room. A young woman, probably no older than he was actually, sat in the chair behind a large metal desk. She had fairly long brown hair and tanned skin. She looked up at him from behind dark-rimmed glasses with big brown eyes. She smiled at him. A smile that was as charming as a toothy grin on a hungry alligator.
"Mr. Kirkland I presume?" She said in a heavy French accent, standing and holding out her hand.
"Y-…Yes." He shook her hand hesitantly.
"Henriette Dumay. Please, sit down. We have much to talk about."
Arthur sat down in the chair opposite her. The chair was no better than the ones in the waiting room and that was a fact.
At first, Miss Dumay was solely interested in 'him' and how 'he' was doing and how 'his' life was. She then asked about the Alfred and Matthew. How their grades were and did they seem 'happy.' Arthur was not amused in the slightest when she tried to lighten the tense mood with a joke. Not even a chuckle.
"Well, Mr. Kirkland, I suppose I should get to the point shouldn't I?" She sighed, leaning forward in her chair.
"I would appreciate it." He didn't mean for it to come out like an insult. Actually, nah, he meant it like an insult alright.
She sat up straight, completely business-like. He almost wished he could take back his little snide remark because the look she was giving him could've made a lesser-man weep. Key word being almost.
"Mr. Kirkland, your records of employment have become a concern to us." Arthur swallowed hard.
"You are currently attending the local University, is that correct?" Miss Dumay's brown eyes, which seemed to glow a demonic yellow now, bore into him. Arthur nodded.
"But you are only attending one class, is that correct?" Again, Arthur nodded.
"Tell me, Mr. Kirkland, about how much is your paycheck from your current job?" Arthur blinked, was he being interrogated? Arthur's mouth flapped like a fish and when he didn't speak Miss Dumay did.
"From my understanding, it isn't much. Children such as Alfred and… and… the other one- need balance in their life, if you're living from paycheck to paycheck who knows what even a little upset in your finances might do. And on top of paying for two young boys, you're also putting yourself through college and paying off debts."
Arthur did not like where this was going. Miss Dumay gave him a sickly sweet smile and pushed her glasses higher up on her small nose.
"What I am trying to say is-"
"You're taking them." Arthur interrupted, his heart sinking as the word fell from his lips and crumbled the moment they touched the cold office air.
"Ye-"
"No. No, you can't have them-… No!" Arthur stood from his chair as the information sank in.
"Sit down. Mr. Kirkland." Miss Dumay's voice was deathly quiet. Arthur sat, completely dumbfounded.
"Now, Mr. Kirkland," Her voice brightened once more. "I have some options for you. Would you care to hear them?"
Arthur nodded, a small flicker of hope rising in his chest.
"Stop attending classes at the University and get a higher paying job."
Arthur's heart sank. If he dropped out of school, he couldn't go back until the boys were in their teens at the very least. And he wasn't even sure he could drop out and return after that amount of time. He was lucky enough to have been accepted the first time. Not to mention the fact that if he stayed in school he could get a higher paying job a lot quicker.
"Or," Arthur looked up at Miss Dumay. "You find a way to increase your income. Until then, we will have to take the boys."
Arthur looked at her like she had sprouted a third eye. "But, I thought you said-"
"I said I had options for you, I never said that they were alternatives." Her brow furrowed slightly. Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I'll tell you what, you drop your class by tomorrow and get a new job by the end of the week and we'll let the boys stay."
Arthur opened his mouth to reply but he was cut off.
"Unless you would rather stay in school and give up the kids. I can give you my word that they won't go up for adoption for a few years. It would give you some time to collect yourself, finish college, and find a good paying job."
And so there he was, making the decision that would affect the lives of two boys.
When he made his decision, he hoped beyond all hope that he was making the right one.
Francis stood outside the room to his cooking class, shivering in the slight cold but awaiting his favorite person in the world.
Francis glanced at his watch. Usually Arthur would arrive 15-20 minutes early, 5 minutes at the latest. Arthur was verging on being late to class at this point. Francis turned and walked into the classroom and took his usual seat, glancing over at Arthur's seat every now and then. Hoping the seat would fill itself.
Class began as per usual, except when the professor stood at the front of the room to make an announcement.
"Before we begin today's lesson I would like to inform you that Mr. Kirkland has dropped this class." Murmurs of relief washed over the class. Arthur had actually exploded jell-o once and several girls still couldn't get the stains off their skin.
Francis, however, was quite perplexed. Arthur had been adamant about completing this course a few days ago. What could have changed his mind? Francis decided to find out just that.
Arthur began to fill his kettle with water.
It had been a rather unsuccessful day of job hunting. He'd go to tons of places. Submitted tons of applications and had at least four interviews where they'd told him: "You're just not the right material." Well where is this 'right material' and how much does it cost? Arthur set the kettle on the stove and lit the burner.
In the next room he could hear the boys playing. Alfred was shouting and Matthew, though Arthur couldn't hear him, was probably telling his brother to be quiet. Arthur leaned on the counter and placed his face in his hands. He breathed in, then out, and repeated the process for a few minutes. The high pitched whistle of the kettle broke him from this exercise. He poured the water into a glass with a teabag in it.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Arthur groaned in slight annoyance and went to answer it. What he found behind it was definitely not what he wanted to see.
"F-Francis? What are you doing here? How did you get my address?" Arthur gaped.
"In the phonebook, where else?" Arthur barely had time to protest as Francis pushed his way inside.
"What are you doing here? What do you want? If this is about a date this is pushing the limit Francis even for you!"
"Ooh, someone hasn't had their afternoon tea yet." Francis turned to him with his arms crossed, a grin plastered across his face.
"Yeah, thanks to you," Arthur pointed to the kettle on the stove. "I was just about to when you showed up."
"Heh, so I heard you dropped the cooking class. Why?"
Arthur shuffled his feet and found a particular stain on the tile floor to be more fascinating than the current conversation. He heard Francis sigh and uncross his arms from his chest.
"Arthur, please talk to me. I'm… I'm worried about you."
Arthur fixed a harsh gaze on the Frenchman's face. He'd never known Francis to worry, or barge into someone's home uninvited and unwanted either but there were first times for everything right? Arthur scrutinized the man before him, looking for any sign of dishonesty or deceit.
"What does it matter to you?" Arthur's words sounded more callous than he intended. "It's none of your business-"
"Oh! Pulling that card again I see? 'None of your business frog!' Well I'm making it my business now!" Francis had never raised his voice like that, other than when he was singing ridiculously, and his tone did nothing to cool Arthur's rising temper.
"Who the hell do you-…" Arthur was vaguely aware that Francis' attention wasn't on him anymore. He turned to see Alfred staring blatantly at them and Matthew cowering just behind him.
"Is this guy giving you trouble Artie?" Alfred made a punching motion into his other hand that would've been adorable any other time but now.
"No-no Alfred, I'm fine, we were just having a discussion." Arthur flashed a quick glare over his shoulder at Francis. "Go on back into your room and do your homework."
Alfred huffed but did as he was told and trudged back into his room. Arthur turned back to Francis, about to apologize for his irritability but Francis stopped him with a point of his finger. He glanced back to see Matthew still in the room, frozen to the spot with something obviously on his mind.
"Yes, Matthew? Is there something you need?" The boy stiffened slightly but held up a book with the title 'Bonjour!"
"C-can you… that is, um, will you practice with me t-today?"
Oh shit. Arthur had totally forgotten about that. Anita had, up until recently, been teaching the kids foreign languages. Alfred had chosen Spanish, and had immediately thrown out the idea of even trying to learn. Matthew, however, had been diligently learning French almost completely by himself. Arthur had promised him weeks ago that he'd practice with them, but had obviously forgotten.
"Oh, oh Matthew I'm so sor-"
"Parlez vous français?" Francis intervined, directing his question to Matthew.
Matthew, wide-eyed only barely choked out "U-un peu."
"Would it be okay if I practiced with you?" Francis looked to Arthur who was staring with yes just as wide as Matthew's. Before he could respond, Matthew answered with a whole hearty. "Y-yes!"
"Alright then," Francis leaned in and ruffled Matthew's hair. "But if you don't mind, could you give us a minute alone?" He indicated to Arthur over his shoulder. Matthew nodded vigorously before running into his room to hide.
There was a silence between Francis and Arthur for a few seconds.
"You didn't have to do that." Arthur crossed his arms.
"Bah! Who could say no to eyes like that?" Francis said putting a hand on Arthur's tense shoulder.
Arthur stood there for a moment and looked at Francis for what felt like the first time. He uncrossed his arms. "Thank you." Francis blinked in surprise before grinning broadly.
"It is nothing, mon ami."
"Yeah well," Arthur pulled Francis to him and placed a soft peck on his lips. "Now it's something."
Author's Note: Is it weird my favorite part about writing this was torturing Arthur with my OC? Hope you liked it :D Please Review!
(HOOOOOOOOOLY CRAP I'm SO SORRY ABOUT HOW LATE THIS IS!)
