"Francis, you need to go out more," Antonio sighed. "This isn't healthy."
Francis gasped and dramatically pressed a hand to his chest. "Are you calling raising my children unhealthy?!" he emphasized.
"No, I'm calling this unhealthy!" Antonio gestured to the state Francis was in.
The Frenchman was dressed in an old gray shirt with coffee stains and torn shorts. He hadn't shaved in two weeks and his hair was uncombed and tangled from sleep. His hands were holding onto a hot coffee mug and his lips were turned into a frown. His sleep-deprived eyes glared at Antonio accusingly. The both of them were sitting on the couch in the living room.
The man huffed. "You are exaggerating, Antonio."
The Spaniard shook his head in disdain. "Amigo, please. The Francis I know would never be fine with this mess."
Scoffing, the other man lifted the coffee to his lips. "I am perfectly fine like this."
"Even I know when kids are too much, and I'm single."
"You really shouldn't be. What happened to that one man?" Francis queried.
Antonio shrugged. "Complicated."
"Oh, but you should go out with him. Have fun. Live a little."
Then Antonio groaned. "Francis, you are the one who needs to 'have fun' and 'live a little.'" He gestured his arm towards the kitchen. "Just look at Arthur! Go out with him! Even for a little while!"
Arthur dragged his feet out of the kitchen. "Oh, it's Antonio. I knew I was hearing Spanish in the living room," he muttered.
"Where are the boys?" Antonio asked.
Francis pointed down to Arthur's feet. Arthur's eyes glanced down at his legs. Antonio looked over.
"Hi, Toni!" Alfred called.
"Hello!" Matthew grinned widely.
Antonio looked up at Arthur. He was wearing a green robe over a shirt with questionable stains and gray sweatpants. His face was out of it; his mind was wandering. The boys clung to Arthur's legs as they conversed with each other happily. Okay, that was it. "Arthur, Francis, you two are going out tomorrow night. Go eat out at a restaurant. Don't do this to yourselves."
"We are a perfectly happy family, Antonio. And we're not going to let you ruin that!" Arthur sputtered.
"You're ruining yourselves! Let the boys be someone else's problem for a day!" Antonio exclaimed.
It was settled. Two reserved seats in a beautiful, fancy restaurant waited for the men until tomorrow. They would spend the entire day together and not let the boys corrupt their evening. And their friends were making sure it would stay that way. Everybody was busy that day, so they had to find a stranger to babysit the two children. They found a woman in her late twenties who was willing to look after the both of them.
"She's nice, she cleans, she cooks, and she's experienced in babysitting," Antonio said. "She's perfect for those two."
"No stranger is perfect to take care of our babies!" Arthur huffed.
"But going out does sound nice," Francis said. "It'd let us have some quality time with each other. We haven't gone out together since..." He tapped his chin with his finger. "I don't remember, actually."
"So what happened with that man?" Arthur asked Antonio. He noticed the Spaniard's face contort in a playful, indifferent scrunch.
"There were some problems..." Antonio answered. "Don't worry about it."
Francis gasped out in disbelief. "Non, mon ami. You should tell us!"
Antonio quickly dismissed the matter and pushed himself out of the house. He said his goodbyes to the family and jumped into his car immediately. Francis sighed in defeat. That matter would be handled some other day, hopefully.
Finally, the date came and Arthur was crying—internally, at least. "Francis, where did I put the first aid kit?! I thought I put it in the bathroom upstairs!" Occasionally there were sounds of a groan or a choked sob leaking out of his throat. "Ugh! Francis!" Many times the man ran around the house making last minute checks. "I cleaned their rooms, I prepared the list of numbers for the sitter, I put away all of the dangerous things... did I? I should check the laundry room if I put the detergent away properly."
Francis had enough. "Arthur, you'll grow old pretty fast if you keep worrying."
The Englishman perked his lips in a frown and Francis felt a small tug at his own chest. "What if the sitter isn't able to contact us in time?! Oh, no. Maybe we should stay..."
"Arthur, the boys will be okay," Francis assured. He placed a hand on the other's shoulder and embraced him shortly. "Besides, you can always check on them yourself." Arthur nodded in agreement and soon after stopped fussing around the house. Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang and a pair of barreling twins dashed down the stairs in excitement.
"The sitter's here! She's here!" Alfred yelled out.
"She's here!" Matthew followed up.
"Now, boys," Arthur lectured (Alfred and Matthew rolled their eyes), "I don't want you two being bad for the babysitter. Okay? No roughhousing or anything of the sort."
"Okay, okay!" Alfred shot out a thumbs up. "Okie-dokie!" The boy turned to Matthew and they instantly engaged in a thumb wrestle.
Francis opened the the door. "You must be Stacey." He smiled politely. "This is Arthur. Those two are the boys. Alfred's the one in the blue shirt, Matthew's the one in the red shirt."
Stacey smiled back. Her white, pearly teeth glimmered, and her beautiful, shoulder-length hair was pulled up in a dark blond messy bun. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, nothing special. "This is the information you'll need from me." She handed a piece of paper to Arthur and continued. "It's my number. I've been babysitting for a while now, and I'm happy I can take care of your boys!"
She crouches down to be level with the children. "How old are you two?"
Alfred held out eight fingers. "We're eight! We'll be in second grade in fall!" Matthew hid behind his brother and peeked from behind his shoulder. "That's Mattie! He's my twin brother!"
"I'm Stacey!" she enthusiastically introduced. "I'll be taking care of you two for the night, since your dad and papa will go out. But we're gonna have fun, right?"
Alfred nodded happily and so did Matthew. "Can we play a game?" Alfred asked. "It's called 'monster'!"
Francis smiled sweetly at the sight of his sons talking to the sitter. It was endearing and cute to see Alfred and Matthew talk to some adults so happily other than him, Arthur, or their friends. The man pulled the reluctant Arthur out of the door. As he was being dragged away, Arthur called out the emergency information and other small details out to Stacey.
"There are snacks in the cabinets! Oh, and if you have trouble you can always call us-!"
"Come on, Arthur! We can't be late!"
The door swung shut and the boys ran to the living room. They grabbed all of the pillows and blankets and brought them to Stacey. "These will be our weapons! You have to catch us!"
Stacey grinned. "So I have to catch you, huh?" The boys nodded vigorously and clutched at the sides of the soft materials. "Well, you better hurry! Or the monster will catch you!" She lunged toward the boys who ran split and ran around the house energetically.
Alfred and Matthew jumped on the couch energetically and watched Stacey catch her breath. "Wow...! You two... are really fast!" Alfred grinned and jumped into a sitting position.
"Can we play another game?"
"Can we play outside?" Matthew asked, tugging at his brother's shirt.
"Yeah, can we play outside?" Alfred repeated loudly.
Stacey nodded then gulped. "Sure! What are we going to do?"
"We're going to have a race!" Alfred shouted. "And then we'll run through an obstacle course!" He dragged Matthew and Stacey out to the backyard and pulled out buckets, chairs, a wagon, and several flags.
"We have to set up the race track first! Mattie, go put the flags on the other side!"
The boys prepared for the race as Stacey tiredly watched from afar. Looking after these kids was like looking after two puppies! Good thing they didn't own any pets or this would have been awful...
"Alright! The race track is finished, Stacey!"
"Round five!" Alfred shouted after being bested by his brother for the fourth time. "This time I'll win for sure!"
"Ti- Time out...!" Stacey wheezed. She placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder and tried to regain a steady breath. "Maybe we should calm down for a bit..."
Alfred looked up at her quizzically. "But we still have to do the obstacle course!" His lips puckered into a pout. "I wanted you to do it with us!"
And so she did. Seven times. Not counting the times Matthew accidentally tripped and Alfred declared they had to start where Matthew had fallen because it would be "unfair" if they didn't. The only reason they stopped after seven was because Stacey had fallen herself and decided that she had to take a break. Now the three were inside the house, wondering what to do next.
"What about we watch a movie? Or we can read some books?" she suggested.
"Can we go to the park?" Alfred asked. "Mattie wants to go on the monkey bars!"
"Um... maybe some other time," she answered. These two were too much to handle. They were eight for crying out loud! How much energy did eight-year-olds even have these days? "How about we have a snack?"
"Pancakes?" Matthew wondered.
"Why don't we look at what your dad has for us first?" she said.
They journeyed to the kitchen and Stacey opened the fridge. She pulled out a jug of milk and asked the boys if they found the snacks. They responded back with a no and her brows furrowed. She placed the milk on the table and the boys looked at it in a curious manner. Stacey opened the first cabinet she could find and saw a box of crackers. Figuring they would be enough for now, she took it out and turned around to the boys when suddenly a splash sounded. Then she screamed.
"What happened?!"
"I'm sorry..." Matthew sniffled. "I wanted to pour some, but the jug was heavy..."
"No, it's..." Stacey bit her lip. "Why don't you guys changed? The both of you are soaking. I'll clean up here while you're changing." The boys nodded silently and trudged up to their room.
The young woman sighed and pressed at her temples. Should she call...? No. No! She could never. It would ruin her reputation. She was already so experienced with kids, and yet these two were completely different. Most kids would have tired out by now. Was it because of how their parents never went out to let them let loose? She shook her head. Questions were for later. She quickly mopped up the milk with the paper towels and threw them into the trash.
"We're back!" Alfred announced. This time, though, he was wearing a Captain America tee and Matthew wore a Spiderman shirt.
Stacey smiled despite being exhausted. Today might be the worse job she would ever be given.
She was right. Alfred and Matthew would never remember why the nice lady named Stacey didn't even babysit them other times, until a certain hero brought it up. The hero had something to do with this story.
What truly unhinged Stacey was the fire. It wasn't the kitchen fire, or the living room fire. It would have been terrible if it was an outdoor fire. Maybe if Stacey was careful with who she babysat, she would have never been scared so much in her entire life.
"Can you light the candle?" Matthew asked. "Papa likes the smell. It will get rid of the milk smell."
Agreeing with the boy, she lit the candle with a lighter she found in a separate case in the back of the house. Possibly to keep away from the children. She would have done the same. Then lock the lighter in a safe, just to be careful. The lighter in her hand, Stacey sniffed at the smell. She decided that Matthew was right, the smell of the candle was good.
"Papa likes scented candles," Matthew said. "He buys a lot of them. Especially for winter when we roast marshmallows."
"Can we roast-?" Alfred started.
"No," Stacey snapped. "That's dangerous. You should do it with a parent, okay?"
So they waited. Stacey thought that this would be the last of today's events. But she was completely wrong, as she saw when she accidentally bumped against the table holding the candle. She cursed in her head when the throbbing pain shot her skin, and she cursed underneath her breath when the candle rolled to the curtains and a flame burst.
"Stacey!" Alfred yelled worriedly.
"Stay away from it! Go outside!" she ordered. The boys instantly ran out the door and she ran to the fire extinguisher. In the corner of the office. That was what she was told. So she grabbed it and tried to extinguish the flame. She bit her lip and cursed loudly when the flame wasn't reduced. She cursed and cursed as she tried to extinguish the fire, but now she was crying and couldn't even see where she was aiming.
Across the street, away from the dancing fire, a perfectly content fourteen year old boy stretched out to pull open the curtains.
"We need more natural light..." he murmured.
When the curtains pulled back, and the glaring light reflected in his eyes, he pursed his lips. "That's not what I meant..."
He ran out the door without alerting his family and onto the road, not paying attention to the man who almost crashed into him. He also didn't notice the hand motion he was displaying to him. Unless he didn't care. Something was on fire, should he care that someone was telling him off?
Two small figures in front of the house worriedly looked up at him.
"It was an accident! It wasn't our fault-!"
"Go over to the side of the road," he calmly dictated. The boys complied and he entered the home. Without consoling or speaking to the woman, he took the extinguisher from her hands and aimed it at the source of the fire before working his way up. Once the the fire was reduced to ashes, he sighed out of relief. "Next time, don't light anything while their parents are out. Maybe there was a reason they kept the lighter in a box away from where the kids normally play."
Stacey gulped back a sob. "How'd you know?" her voice wobbled. "Who are you?"
"Oh!" Matthew sounded after cautiously entering the house. "Look, Al. Kiku put out the fire."
"Kiku's so cool!" Alfred grinned and followed after him.
The young woman cried out. "I don't want to stay here any longer! I'm leaving!" She picked up her stuff in the corner of the entrance and set a look at the boys. "Tell your parents I don't want my pay! Don't ever remind me of this job!" She slammed the door shut.
"What was that about?" Alfred asked.
"It's not a problem," Kiku answered. He looked at a black clock on the wall and pursed his lips in thought. Kiku then turned to the boys. "When are your parents coming home?"
Alfred contemplated the question, but soon after shrugged. "I don't know."
"I think Daddy said that he wanted to get home before dinner," Matthew wondered aloud. "But Papa told him that they might get back even later."
Kiku's eyes flickered back to his house. It wasn't like he would be far from home. Plus, he didn't mind staying over to watch the boys. Alfred cocked his head in curiosity.
"Kiku, are you staying?"
With a small smile, Kiku answered. "Of course I will. I need to clean up a bit, so why don't you two play something together?"
"Okay," Matthew softly said. He and Alfred ran up the stairs to their room and rummaged through their toys. Afterwards, they would play with Kiku.
The boy got to work instantly. He pulled the curtains off the rods and stuffed them under his arm before throwing them out beside the trash bin outside. There was no use for them anymore, and Kiku decided that he would offer to pay when Arthur and Francis came home. Soon afterwards, he called for the boys to come down. They hurriedly scuttled to the first floor and Alfred bounced up and down.
"What will we do next?" he asked.
"Have you eaten dinner yet?" Kiku wondered. The day was getting late, and it didn't seem as if the boys had eaten yet. He figured that they should eat dinner, clean themselves up, and prepare for bed. He could wait and watch over until their parents arrived.
"Not yet," Matthew answered.
"What would you like to eat?"
Alfred hummed in thought, but Matthew immediately responded. "Mac and cheese!"
That's easy, Kiku thought. He motioned for them to follow him into the kitchen. "Why don't you help me?" Might as well start tiring them out now. The three boys walked around the area, gathering materials. Matthew retrieved the Kraft Mac and Cheese and Alfred slid a spoon into Kiku's hands.
"What can we do next?" Alfred said.
"Maybe you can go set up the silverware," Kiku replied, placing a pot onto the stove. He reached up to open a cabinet and pull out two bowls for the boys with one hand, the other turning the stove on. Kiku heard the clanking of metal behind him as he set to work. Alfred and Matthew finished the silverware and brought the bowls to their seats. The twins chatted idly as Kiku fixed up their dinner. After thirty minutes of enthusiastic laughter and conversation, the food was ready.
"Eat up, then go take a shower, alright?" Kiku ordered. He watched the boys nod in compliance and reach for their forks. Happily, the two downed their food in less than ten minutes. Kiku was almost shocked over their hunger. The boys excused themselves to go clean themselves up. Now it was Kiku's turn to clean the kitchen. He smiled, albeit tiredly. It was rough, but he liked this different pace of lifestyle.
Alfred and Matthew sat on the floor discussing what they would add to their World of Fun. By now they had agreed upon bringing in an entire zoo and a giant spaceship. They looked up to Kiku, who was working quietly on his phone. The boys jumped up onto the couch Kiku was sitting on and looked over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Matthew asked.
"I'm writing a story," Kiku replied.
"What's it about?" Alfred grinned in curiosity. "Can you read it to us?" He watched Kiku ponder the thought, and the older boy's mouth opened.
"Okay," he said.
"A long time ago, there were four guardians of the world. They worked very hard to keep everything in balance. One was a bird-like beast, with wings spreading out to the edges of the world. Another was a large terror that could ran as fast as the lightning. The third was a fish creature which swam powerfully against mighty waves. Then there was the last of them, the guardian of space and in between."
The small boys' breaths became quiet, steady. Eyelids drooped heavily in liquid concentration. Their heads nuzzled at Kiku's jacket sleeves and their arms curled around Kiku's elbows. Kiku's own voice slowly stooped eventually into a soft, light whisper only he could hear himself. Time ticked by in the back of their minds, but no attention to the passing clock could be achieved. Now there were three boys on a couch, sleeping to the sound of whispers in their memories and the ticking of the clock behind them.
"We're home," Arthur called out. He stopped at the sight of three small figures on his couch. He smiled at the scene and lifted a finger to his lips as Francis entered the house.
Francis gently chuckled under his breath. Both of them paid no mind to the absence of a certain woman and the appearance of a teenage boy.
They left the living room, leaving the three to sleep soundly in the entanglement of their arms.
AN: Multi-chaptered? Hope you enjoyed the read! Have some cookies!