A/N: Fourth Installation for Domestic Verse. Originally I wanted to make this last, but I don't see myself ceasing to write in this verse any time in the near future.

Also, I couldn't think of a title for this, so I just Edith Piaf-ed it again. Tentatively, "You Are Everywhere", unless I am mistaken.

Please Review!

Tu Es Partout

Me and Matty haven't always been together.

Once, Mommy and Daddy didn't like each other very much, and they "separated". Mommy took Matty away to Canada, and I stayed with Daddy in New York. They said it was only going to be for a little bit. I don't remember much at all, but I remember the yelling and being scared and holding onto Matty real tight. We were two, I think, so of course we didn't know what was happening. I used to pretend I did, though, for Matty. I used to pretend it was goin' to be alright, because I didn't like to see him scared. I wasn't scared of nothin', 'cept ghosts, and as long as Daddy was there it was okay, cause he was bigger and scarier than a ghost.

I like to think that Mommy was good to Matty. They were both good people, just a little confused, because they hadn't even wanted a kid and then suddenly they had two.

For some reason, they got back together. It was three years since I'd seen Matty, but it didn't matter, because neither of us had changed very much. That was the best day of my life—we were real glad to see each other, and it was a good thing, too. Mommy and Daddy died just a year later. It was on our sixth birthday. We were in the car with them, but we had seat belts on. They didn't.

I want to have happy memories of my parents, but I can't really think of anything. Just Matty. I'm glad that I have Matty, or else I may have died in that car. Or worse, I may still have been living with them.

The orphanage wasn't so terrible. Matty and I got to share a room, and there were lots of other boys to play with. I don't think they liked me very much, and sometimes they just ignored Matty. But they were still fun to play with.

The day I met Iggy was the second best day ever. I liked him a lot, because he had funny eyebrows and held me like he'd never let go. He was with the blonde guy, who seemed to like Matty, which was a good thing. When they left, I saw them get into separate cars, and then the lady who ran the orphanage said that Iggy wanted to adopt me, and Francis wanted Matty. At first, I was real happy, because I wanted a real home for once. But then I got nervous, because I realized that Matty would be taken away from me again, and I really didn't want that to happen.

And so when Iggy came back the next day, I started to cry. I scared him real bad, and his eyebrows got all furrowed, which made me laugh even though tears and snot were all over my face. Then I noticed Francis right behind him, and Matty right next to me, and I felt like everything was going to be okay.

In the car home (and that was a real wonderful thought, and I held Matty's hand the whole way even though the car seats got in the way) Iggy and Francis tried to explain some stuff to us. They knew each other from somewhere and had gotten a place after that somewhere (which was called college I think). But they fought a lot (which made me nervous cause it reminded me of my parents) and thought that maybe if they had something to concentrate on then maybe their lives would be different. It was one of their friends who suggested they get kids. Francis was the only one who took it seriously, and Iggy had been planning on getting his own place anyways. But then Iggy went with him to the orphanage and saw me and apparently changed his mind on the spot. I liked him for that.

The place where Iggy and Francis lived was real pretty, at least to me. But I think Matthew liked it too, because he squeezed my hand and let go. My hand got cold, but then Iggy came from the side door and unbuckled me and picked me up, and I saw Francis do the same to Matty, and I felt better. And then I realized that I was happy.

It's been a while since we came to live with Iggy and Francis, and every day is awesome. I have a feeling- a bad feeling- that one day me and Matty are gonna be separated again. But I feel better, because I know that it definitely won't be final, and more importantly I'll be with Iggy, who will let me see Matty and even Francis anytime.

And I know that me and Matty are probably the luckiest people ever.

It's our seventh birthday today. I woke up to Al shaking me and singing 'Happy Birthday to Us' really loudly. I smiled at him and, when I woke up a bit more, smelled pancakes and sausage. I didn't smell any burnt, so I assumed that it was Francis cooking, so I was glad.

We didn't have school 'cause it was the summer, and we would be going to second grade soon. I was nervous about that, because I still didn't know a lot of kids, and a lot of kids didn't like Al. But I had plenty of time to worry later, because right now Al was tugging me towards breakfast.

Once out in the hall, I almost slipped, but Al was grabbing my arm so tight I kept my balance. I belatedly realized I was still holding Kuma, but then we were out in the kitchen and Francis and Iggy were smiling at us and Al was climbing into his chair and I was heading for mine. Francis was indeed making the pancakes, and he served us just as we were settling down.

"Thanks Francis!" Al shouted loudly, and Arthur glared at him over the rim of his coffee cup.

"Softly, Al. You woke me up too early this morning."

"And you didn't even say happy birthday to me."

"Of course I did," he said. "Four times, but you were talking so much you didn't hear me." He looks over at me. "Happy birthday to you too, Matthew."

I smile at him and Al, who is trying to shove a whole pancake in his mouth, when Francis comes over and ruffles my hair.

"Happy birthday, mon cher," he says.

"Thank you, papa."

Francis says something similar to Alfred, who mumbles a thank you around the pancake.

It's been one year, I suddenly think. One year since we lost Mommy and Daddy; one year since I started to be happy. One whole year, and I've still been invisible, but not to important people. Not to the people that matter the most—Al, and Francis, and even Arthur and Miss Elizabeta.

I loved my parents, I still love them, but they were not good people. They weren't bad—they just weren't good. They separated me and Al for some strange reason, and even though with Mommy in Canada I was away from all the yelling, I still wasn't away from everything. Canada was wonderful, but it wasn't heaven.

I didn't have Al there. When we met again, it was probably the happiest moment ever—and I knew he felt the same way. Now, we were together in a happy place for what would probably be a long time—and even if Arthur eventually moved out and took Alfred with him, I know that we would still see each other. Arthur and Francis are nice people.

"What are we doing today?" I asked timidly. At first, I thought no one heard me, and I felt so very small and invisible—just like in the past and at school and when I'm not with Alfred or Francis. Then, Al looked over at me and grinned.

"Anything we want!"

"That's not true," Arthur said. He looked at me. "I trust you, Matty, to not go along with anything he's scheming up."

"Matthieu wouldn't do that," Francis says. "He's a bon garcon. But really, mon cher, it's up to you. And Alfred, I suppose."

"I want to go ice skating!" Alfred said.

"It's summer," Arthur grumbled, but Alfred ignored him.

"And then we can go to the amusement park, and get ice cream, and then go home and eat lots of cake!"

The three of them looked at me expectantly. I set Kuma down on the floor, took a bite of pancake, and smiled.

"Cake sounds good, eh?"

Alfred let out a cheer, grinning wider when Arthur pretended to threaten him with his newspaper. Francis sat down next to me and ruffled my hair.

"Indeed it does, Matthieu."

I looked over at Al and saw him smiling at me. I smiled back.

And at that moment, I knew we were probably the luckiest kids in the world.