Alfred sat huddled on the bathroom floor, eyes tired and dry. He watched his brother leaning against the door make cuts over and over in his arm. The marks were haphazard and crisscrossed in every which way. Some were deeper than others. The velvety beads of blood would run to the surface before pouring down the sides in streams of velvet turned wine.

Papa was leaving again tonight for round two of make Arthur father of the year. He had seemed so reluctant after the boys had gotten so tense. He tried talk to them, but they couldn't tell him the truth. Arthur was still at it. He was more careful. The anxiety they felt to be left with him was almost unbearable. They knew Francis loved Arthur deeply and it would hurt him to know the truth. They couldn't hurt him.

"Does it hurt?" Alfred asked softly. Matthew looked up at him.

"Not really." Matthew mumbled as he continued. "Does it hurt for you?"

"Yeah." His voice was barely a whisper. Matthew looked at his younger brother and bit the inside of his lip as he made a cut deeper still. Alfred shifted so that he was laying his head against the cool bathtub, his cheek resting on the ledge. "Like my throat burns and my stomach feels like I've been doing a million sit ups and my whole body just aches." He closed his eyes. "I want it to stop."

Matthew stood up and put the razor in its hiding place before attending to the cuts. He ran them under the water and inhaled sharply as the water stung the broken skin. He dried his arms and wrapped them in gauze before he sat next to his brother and hugged him. Alfred was getting worse. He could tell that much. It scared him to death. Alfred pushed Matthew away as another wretch escaped his gut. Matthew turned away as his brother puked. He was a sobbing mess when it was done and he sobbed into Matthew's chest. Matthew wondered how it had become involuntary. The fact that his body was just rejecting food made Matthew realize that Alfred had been doing this for so long he'd trained his stomach to not accept food.
"Mattie?" Alfred whimpered.

"Can we please tell Papa?"

"I don't know, Freddy."

"I'm scared." Alfred gasped.

"What's scaring you?"

"I can't control any of it anymore." He whispered. "I can't even control if I eat or not. I can't control it. What happens if I ever get to get treatment? My stomach won't hold it." Matthew tightened his hug on his brother. "And I'm not making myself do this. Mattie, I taste blood."

"The doctors and nurses will know what to do."

"Can we please tell him? I need…I need help." He pushed him back again and this time it wasn't vomit; it was blood. Matthew stared with wide eyes. "Now can we tell him?" Alfred choked as more blood was ejected from his body.

Francis hummed softly as he read his book. He sipped his coffee and smiled at the taste before taking a bite of his pastry. His mind kept wandering to everything going on with Arthur, so he had to keep pulling his mind back to his book.

"P-papa?" He looked up and saw Alfred hugging his stomach with what looked to be blood coming from his mouth. He wiped it off and leaned against the wall to catch his breath.

"Mon deiu…" Francis jumped up and went to his son. "Alfie, are you okay?"

"No. Papa…help me."

"Ar-." Alfred covered his mouth.

"Don't…don't call him."

"What is going on?"

"I'm okay. Well I'm not okay, but I'm okay." Alfred forced a smile through his tears. "I need you to help me get help."

"What?" Francis was so scared. "Anything you need, but tell me what's going on." Matthew appeared.

"Papa, we need you get us away from him." Matthew said softly.

"What? Why?" He was so confused. Matthew upzipped his hoodie and closed his eyes as he let it slip to the ground so he could show Francis the scars all over his arms. He didn't want to see his face. Tears were falling down Matthew's cheeks. He heard a shuddering gasp and felt himself being pulled to Francis in a tight hug. Matthew and Alfred didn't want Arthur to know what was being said, so they had planned for Matthew to tell Francis everything.

"He scares us so much, Papa. He hasn't stopped. It's gotten worse. Freddy needs a hospital. I'll tell you everything on the way."

"What is going on?" Francis asked grabbing his keys. He and Matthew guided Alfred to the car.

"Mathieu, I need you to wait until we get to the hospital before you tell me anything. I need to drive."

"Oui." Matthew said softly as he climbed in the back with his brother. Alfred was shaky and pale. Matthew hugged him and tried to get him to calm down.

They pulled up to the hospital five minutes later and helped him out. A nurse ran out with a wheelchair and he was immediately taken back as he vomited another stomach full of blood. Francis filled out the paperwork quickly. Afterward Francis and Matthew were told to wait in the waiting room. Francis hugged Matthew to him as they waited.

"Mr. Bonnefoy?" A doctor came out.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Seney. I am helping on your son's case. He's not in good shape at all. His electrolytes are very off balance which can cause severe cardiac issues including cardiac arrest. We're replenishing those right now. We suspect that he has at least one ruptured ulcer. Ulcers are commonly seen in individuals with bulimia. We need to know where exactly the ulcer is and how bad the bleeding is, so we're going to need your consent to perform an endoscopy and also we suspect a possible hernia. What I'd like to do is open him up and do some exploratory surgery just to make sure everything is okay. From the bleeding, this is a bad ulcer."

"Mon dieu. Yes. Okay. Do what you need to do."

"Your son also requires a blood transfusion."

"Okay." The doctor went over the forms and had Francis sign all of them. Matthew watched as his father shakily listened to the doctor and signed the forms.

"You are welcome to come back to see him before we take him in." Francis nodded and followed the doctor pulling Matthew behind him. He had wires connected to him for a heart monitor and two IV sites. A tube had been inserted through his nose.

"What's that for?" Matthew asked curiously.

"It's to relieve the pressure and get rid of some of the blood too keep him from vomiting." The nurse explained. Alfred had tears in his eyes. Francis took his hand and kissed his forehead.

"You'll be okay, mon cher." He said softly.

"I'm scared, Papa." Alfred said as the tears fell.

"Mattie and I will be right here waiting for you. Zee doctors will take great care of you." Francis brushed back Alfred's hair. "We'll be here when you wake up."

"You'll do great, bro. And you better get through all this and get better so I can kick your butt in video games." Matthew smiled.

"In your dreams, Mattie. You'll never beat me." The anesthesiologist let them know they were going to put him under.

"J'taime." Francis said kissing Alfred forehead one last time before the blue eye fluttered shut. He kissed his hand and guided Matthew as they followed a tech to the surgical waiting room. He took him to the back of the room away from the other two people who were there.

"So tell me the whole story." Francis said softly.

"I get so anxious and I do this." He lifted his arms. "It's the only thing that helps. I can stop. I have stopped, but I started again when things got bad. Alfred started stress eating to deal with all the criticism starting when we were ten. When Mama started talking about that too, Alfie started throwing it up because he was scared to get fat and Mama hate him for it. It turned into bulimia from there. He got to the point where he'd be overridden with anxiety if he did do it. That's what he told Mama the first night. Mama just laughed at him. That really messed Alfred up. He's been mad at Mama for a long time, but he never showed it or that he was hurting until that night everyone saw him have a panic attack. He just didn't have the strength to put up the walls again." Matthew stared at his red Converse.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"He made me swear."

"Shit, Mathieu, I'm so sorry." He took his son in his arms and hugged him. His phone rang. It was Arthur. Francis rejected the call. It went on like this ever two minutes until finally Francis answered.

"What?" He hissed.

"Where are you?"

"It's not your business."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Tell me where you are."

"No."

"Where are the bloody hell are you?"

"I'm at a hospital. Alfred is getting surgery thanks to you." He hung up and looked at Matthew. "I miss having a phone you could slam down. Zese new phones are too passive." Matthew gave him a smile. Francis sighed as his phone rang again. "He's not going to leave me alone. I'm going to go outside. Call me if you need anysing. I'll hang up on him. I don't care."

Matthew nodded and watched Francis go outside. He could see him through the window screaming at Arthur through tears. Despite watching them fight almost his entire life, this time it tore him apart. Francis was grabbed at his hair and was using violent hand gestures. He watched with teary eyes and Francis crouched down and held his face in one hand. He was literally watching his parents' marriage disintegrate before his very eyes. He wanted to look away. He wanted to go back and make Alfred get better without any of this. He watched as Francis stood back up calmly and leaned against the wall, looking exhausted. He made out the words, "Fuck you." Then he jumped as Francis violent threw his phone at the wall and kicked it several times before collapsing in sobs.

"Francis, what the hell is wrong with you?" The British voice demanded as Francis put the phone to his ear.

"What is wrong me? What about what is wrong with you? You promised me! YOU FUCKING SWORE ON OUR MARRIAGE ZAT YOU WEREN'T GOING TO DO IT AGAIN!" Francis felt the sobs pushing their way up. "YOU CHOSE TO HURT ZEM EVEN MORE! YOU CHOSE AGAINST US! I LOVED YOU, ARTHUR!"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF THOSE BRATS MESS WITH ME!"

"Do you not even care zat Alfred has to get surgery?"

"I didn't him that hard."

"NOT WIS YOUR FISTS! YOU DID ZIS WIS YOUR WORDS!"

"Sticks and stones, Francis. Now when are you going to be a good husband and come home and apologize for yelling at me?"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? MERDE!" Francis was about to lose it. "YOU ARE SUCH AN ASSHOLE! ARE YOU SERIOUS? DO YOU SERIOUSLY NOT CARE THAT OUR SON COULD DIE? DO YOU NOT CARE THAT HE IS LAYING ON A SURGICAL GOURNEY RIGHT NOW AS DOCTORS HAVE THEIR HANDS INSIDE HIM? DO YOU NOT CARE ABOUT THE FACT THAT HE WAS THROWING UP BLOOD? DO YOU NOT CARE THAT YOUR COMMENTS AND CRITICISM DROVE HIM TO BULIMIA TO PLEASE YOU? DO YOU EVEN CARE THAT MATTIE TURNED HIS ARMS INTO A BUTCHER SHOP? DO YOU NOT CARE THAT YOU ARE DESTROYING THIS FAMILY?"

"Francis, you should know by now that I don't speak French." Francis was sobbing at this point.

"Fuck you, I want a divorce." And with that, Francis threw the phone against the wall. It was done. It was over. He had lost the love of his life. He had lost the one person who he loved most. He had just lost his best friend. He couldn't take the crippling pain that gripped his heart. He couldn't breathe as he sobbed.

Okay guys. Two more chapters left. Well really one and then the epilogue. Please comment.