And as the walls break down, we need help to build up new ones.
"You get it now, right?" Alfred whispered, huddled close to his brother under the covers. They should be sleeping by now, but Alfred just couldn't. He had seen the recognition in his brother's violet blue eyes, and he needed confirmation; he was desperate.
Matthew frowned, fidgeting in his place pressed against his twin. Alfred had abandoned his bed for his own and it made it difficult to move about. "Get what?" Matthew muttered, not wanting to answer the loaded question. He rolled over, facing the opposite direction, "I'm tired, Al." He added, wishing to end the conversation. He hoped his brother would get the hint.
"Get why we need to get them to love each other!" Alfred insisted, grabbing his brother's shoulder and rolling him back over. He looked at him pleadingly, his blue eyes dancing with the hope of understanding.
Matthew hated that look. It hurt to see his brother so desperate for approval from him. He tried to look away, but the elder twin was right in his face. He sighed out in defeat, looking up at him, "Yeah, ok…I get it."
Alfred looked more ecstatic then he had been in a long, long time, even more so then the last Christmas they shared with their parents when he had received his first bicycle. "So you'll help right? I have so many plans! You know how we've been watching Disney movies all the time? It's part of it! Like, first we make spaghetti like in Lady in the Tramp. If that doesn't work then we can steal Uncle France's shoe and hide it in Uncle Arthur's closet. And if that doesn't work we can—"
"Al!" Matthew shushed, pushing his brother off him to sit up. The covers pooled around them in the dark room. Their night light glowed faintly in the corner, keeping the monsters away. "It's never gonna work! You're just making them more mad!" He cried, "You make them fight more!"
Alfred seemed taken aback by the outburst, frowning a little, "But…But Mattie they always fight anyway! I just…I just want everyone to be happy again."
"Al, maybe they are happy just as they are! Maybe it's just you that isn't happy! Stop being so selfish!" He argued back.
And something in Alfred visibly broke within him. Matthew immediately regretted his words, trying to stammer out an apology, but it was too late. The floodgates had opened. Alfred pulled away quickly, covering his face in the dark and trying to fumble over to his own bed.
Matthew followed him rapidly, grabbing his brother's shoulder to try and stop him, "Al I—"
"W-well maybe I'm not happy!" He snapped, and Matthew could recognize the hitch in his brother's breath as he desperately tried to hide the fact he was crying.
"Alfie…"
"I haven't been happy in forever ok!" He shouted, not caring it was in the middle of the night. All his frustrations, his anger, everything bottled up within him was bursting out. "Dad and Mommy left us and-and something in me is now gone too! And I want it back…I want to feel whole again…that's it and—and when I think of Uncle Arthur and Uncle Francis and you and me being a family it…its like when you lose two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle under the couch but then you find two different pieces and even though they don't fit as perfect as the other ones it still works ok! And—and that sounded stupid bu-but I just—"
And by then Matthew was able to bring his brother in to a tight hug, listening as the other babbled on, freely crying into his younger twin's shoulder. "It's gonna be ok, Al. I'll help, I will. I'll…I'll do my best to help. Please stop crying…you're not su-suppose to cry." And Matthew could feel his own eyes tearing up. He couldn't help it, whenever he saw his twin cry he started to himself.
There was a creak in the hallway and the pair froze. "We should get back to bed…" Matthew murmured, feeling his brother nod into his soggy shoulder. He nudged the blond American boy toward his bed, slipping in right beside him and cuddling close.
Arthur turned away from the crack between the door and the wall he'd been peering through. He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair, feeling awful about everything all over again. He had been awoken by the twins' loud cries, and had heard a portion of their conversation.
Something needed to change. He feared for Alfred's mental state… Did he have some sort of depression? Or was he still in grief? Should he contact a therapist? Or should he wait it out? Should he sacrifice his own happiness for Alfred's? Isn't that what parents do?…And…Would fulfilling Alfred's wishes even mean sacrificing his happiness or giving into it?
The last thought loomed in his head and he tried desperately to shake it away. He tried to no avail, as it had firmly planted itself within his mind, making itself at home. Arthur took in a shaky breath, stepping away from the door to return to his own bedroom.
"Never again…I said never again." He whispered to himself fervently, but the doubts creeping in could not be stopped.
Francis knocked at the door patiently, shifting the weight of the grocery bags in his hands. He still felt odd about his parting the night before. It made him rush through work and cancel one of the events he would have been hosting that night in order to hurry to Arthur's home, ingredients in hand for a nice meal. He always brought his own, one could never trust the things found in the Brit's kitchen.
Speaking of the Brit, he soon opened the door and let him inside. Oddly enough, he did so without a word nor glance. Usually, the Frenchman was greeted with some sort of snide remark. It felt weird being left with silence.
"I brought things for dinner," He began casually, making his way to the kitchen to set the food down. Arthur, though, interrupted him, finally lifting his gaze toward him.
"The twins aren't home."
"…Oh?" Francis paused, furrowing his slim eyebrows in confusion, "When will they get back?"
"They're sleeping over at a friends home. I thought it would be good for them and they wanted to see their friend." Arthur explained quickly.
Francis frowned at that, lifting his bags once more, "Well, you could have told me about the change of plans!" He snapped annoyed at all the effort he had put in for nothing. It had taken a lot of smoothing over to cancel the event on such short notice.
Arthur looked away, resigned, and for a moment Francis almost sensed a look of disappointment from the Brit, which was soon covered by an irritated scowl.
"Not everything revolves around you, you bloody frog." He instead spat back, crossing his arms.
"Right, well fine. I'll be going now then." The Frenchman replied simply with a slight huff. He wasn't in the mood to deal with others quick temper.
Arthur faltered, "Now, hold on a moment! I need to talk to you." Francis raised an eyebrow, stopping his retreat back out the door. He stood there and waited. And waited. Arthur said nothing.
Francis was losing his patience, "Well?"
Arthur glared at him, "I don't need your snide attitude right now, Bonnefoy." He muttered vehemently, before trying to calm his temper. He needed to handle this with more tact. But it wasn't his fault. Everything the damn Frenchman did filled him with such volatile, passionate anger.
"Then just spit it out! Arthur, you may not realize this but I have better things to do then stand here and wait as you flounder about with your thoughts." Francis was surprised at how short he was being. He was usually so calm and collected and patient. But the Englishman did have a knack for bringing about the worst in him.
"This isn't something that I can just spit out, you wine bastard!" Arthur retorted quickly, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
And for a moment, Francis could see a flash of their own pasts. Of the many scenes in which Arthur stood, fists ready to fight before him, arguing over some trivial or not so trivial thing. He remembered how those fights usually ended.
And then Francis remembered all their passionate fiery nights, and he realized the growing sense of warmth that had building in him over the course of the past almost year, and suddenly he felt the strongest desire in the pit of his stomach as he stared into the angry Brit's emerald eyes.
And then Francis did something quite impulsive; he kissed the angry man on the lips.
The Frenchman's hands dug into the others blond hair, fingers pulling his head desperately closer. His eyes were clenched shut, enjoying the kiss as best as he could while still fearing the response he would soon receive.
Arthur, for his part, was in shock, his eyes wide and hands at his side. For just a moment he seemed to relax into the hold, seemed to give back to the kiss. It had been so bloody long since he'd kissed anyone, really. He didn't realize how much he missed the feeling of another body pressed against his. He had never realized how lonely he really was.
But reality soon crashed down and he forcefully pushed the Frenchman away, wiping away at his mouth, "What the bloody hell is wrong with you!" He growled.
And Francis knew exactly what was wrong with him, but the answered did not sit well within him. "I…I—Never mind that, what did you have to say before?"
"Never mind that? Are you mad! You just molested my face and you want me to forget about it?" Arthur shot back, a little red in the face. His heart was racing.
"I got carried away, alright. I'm just a horny bastard or whatever you call me," Francis replied, calming himself down and looking away. He ran his fingers through his long silky hair, wondering why in God's name had he done that. He was supposed to be much better at handling these sorts of situations. "Just…Just tell me what's the problem so I can just leave and we can be at peace for a while longer." He sighed out.
Arthur frowned at the defeatist response, collecting his thoughts on what he had wanted to mention, "I'm worried about Alfred." He said seriously, trying to put away the thoughts and feelings of the surprise kiss. Normally, he would have argued the other to death over it, and perhaps even given him a black eye. But Alfred was more important then their weird feelings and violent tensions, and, although Arthur hated to admit it, problems with Alfred meant he needed Francis' help.
The Frenchman blinked, similarly putting aside their differences, "What's wrong? Did something happen? Is he alright?"
"Nothings happened, he's alright. Well, no. I mean, I'm not sure. See, that's the problem right there. I think he might…might need to start seeing a therapist or something." He rambled out, fidgeting his hands in worry. He honestly had no idea what the bloody hell he was doing. He was no parent. Perhaps he was making a big deal of nothing.
"Why? Did he say something or do something?" Francis probed.
"Last night I heard some shouting, and I went to check on the twins. They were still up for some reason and Alfred was hysterical. He even said he had not been happy at all for a very long time. Not really happy. And, well, then he went on babbling about not feeling whole, and fixing puzzles and I…"
"What did you do?" Francis asked quickly, worry shone in his eyes.
At first Arthur thought it was an accusation, as if he alone had caused the boys torment. But one look into the Frenchman's blue eyes and he knew he had meant what had he done with this newfound information.
"I…I didn't do anything. I didn't know what to tell him. Matthew was comforting him much better than I could ever do and they both slipped back to bed soon after. And I should have stepped in but I have no idea what I was even supposed to say or do in that sort of situation!"
Francis said nothing, for a while, turning away from the Brit. Arthur almost thought he was going to leave without a word. Instead, however, the Frenchman spun right back around with a determined expression. He pushed his way past the confused Brit, setting his grocery bags down on the counter once more.
"What are you doing? I thought you had to go soon."
"No. We're going to do some research." Francis decided, "I'm going home to get my laptop but you should start now, alright?"
"Research? Research what?"
"How to be a better a parent."
"I don't think that's how it works normally." Arthur replied.
"Well we aren't a normal case, now are we?"
And as the walls break down, we need help to build up new ones.
And voila! Look an update :O
Sorry its kinda short...orz
Anyways, so my plan over winter break is to finish this story! I'll be trying to keep you guys updated on my tumblr which is xxfuyukaina-bakaxx . tumblr . c o m (without the weird spacing of course. curse you ff)
Feel free to harass me there to keep me on task
Anyways I hope you enjoy this one and leave me some nice reviews pretty please
Thank you guys so much, love you all!
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Festivus! Whatever you celebrate.
