A week later Alfred had been cleared to leave the hospital. Everything had been settled so that Francis got custody over the boys. Arthur felt guilty that he didn't tell his boys the real reason why they were going to live with their papa for a while. As far as they knew, Arthur was doing this so that they could try to make up for lost time with their other father but of course that was a major lie.

Alfred was just finishing up getting dressed when Francis came into the room. The Frenchman had come to take Alfred back to his apartment instead of Arthur because said British man had started his therapy today and he was going to his first session so he couldn't pick him up. Alfred smiled and hugged his father tight.

"Papa! You're here! Where's Dad?"

"Your father had something to do so he couldn't come and pick you up so I'm here instead! Now let's get out of here, Matthieu is waiting at the apartment and don't worry about your things, they're at my apartment." Alfred nodded and walked out the door with Francis. Finally he was free! Hospital food sucked so bad that he wished he could eat his father's cooking. Speaking of which, he wondered what Arthur could be doing. Maybe he applied for a new job. Maybe he was finding another home for them to live in so that they could be closer to Papa. Or maybe, he was abandoning them.

No! That can't be the case! Arthur would never in a million years ever do that to them! At least... he thinks so. Arthur could be quite an unpredictable man sometimes but then again this hasn't been the first time they were abandoned by their father. The first time had been when Arthur was fed up with Alfred's disrespectful mouth and took him and Matthew to a friend's house. They were left there for about three months when Arthur came and took them back. Even though some people wouldn't count that as them being fully abandoned, that was a feeling Alfred had from that experience and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Alfred shook his head of the thoughts. He wouldn't do that. Athur said he wouldn't do that to them ever again. This was all Alfred had to think about on the car ride to Francis's apartment. People say that the good will always outweigh the bad but to Alfred, the bad will always outweigh the good. Nothing was good in his world and when it was, things would always find a way to come crashing down to sadness, hate, anger, and despair.

They reached the apartment building and Alfred took a moment to study the outside. It was a brick outside with some windows in four rows and he could see some people in the windows. He knew it wasn't polite to stare but he couldn't help himself but look. He followed Francis and saw what the inside looked like. On the inside was very dim lighting which was starting to flicker kind of quickly and the walls were painted gray with hardwood floors to compliment them. If I didn't say any better, I'd say that this is a home for depressed people! Alfred thought as he and Francis walked up a staircase.

As they were walking to Francis's apartment one man on the floor below him caught Alfred's eye. He looked like Francis but with more of a pale complection and his hair was a darker shade of blond which was very messy. His eyes were bloodshot and the color was a sullen purple and he had an even scruffier stuble than Papa had. The thing that gave him more of a set off appearance was the facial expression of mixed depression and agony he had on his face. The man was wearing a purple button-up shirt and black jeans. Two things Alfred took into note were the cigarette he had in his mouth and the bottle of wine he had in his left hand. The man looked up and noticed Alfred staring at him. With a glare in he eyes he shouted,

"What the hell are you looking at boy?! Didn't your parents teach you it wasn't polite to stare?!" This guy was French too. But his voice was much rougher than that of Francis's own. In fact, it was rough in general. Francis saw the man yelling at Alfred and returned a similar glare his way.

"I see you're out on your crappy lawn chair drinking wine outside your door bright and early in the morning as always. What's the occasion Francois?" Francois growled and threw the middle finger towards Francis's way.

"Fuck you! I don't have to endure your shit today, leave me alone!" The man said as he gathered up his lawn chair and went back into his apartment with a door slam to emphasize his point that he was finished with the conversation. Alfred immediately started to think about the man. Something about him was so familiar and yet relateable at the same time. Tearing their eyes away from the door Alfred and Francis walked up to the apartment. When they got there, Matthew opened the door and dragged Alfred inside, hugging him.

"Alfred! You're out of the hospital I'm so happy!" Alfred hugged back and ruffled his brother's head.

"I'm happy too bro..." Francis watched the scene play. He had missed his sons looking so adorable. Soon they let go of each other and went to the room they would be staying at for the time being. Alfred took a moment to stare at the room. The walls were a blue wallpaper with a plaid pattern with the same hardwood floors that graced the rest of the apartment. There were two twin beds with the same black comforters and there was even a little desk in a corner of the room which Alfred guessed he could put his laptop.

"You gotta hand it to Papa, he came prepared when Dad let him take us in." Matthew quietly said walking into the room. Alfred repressed a sigh and walked in with his brother. He sat on the bed and laid back to look at the ceiling with an expression of thought crossing his face. One thing he still couldn't ponder was why. Why was Arthur really letting them live with Francis for a while? He knew that the reason Arthur gave wasn't the real reason but he went along with it in the first place nonetheless.

"Are you alright?" The teen who was deep in thought looked at his brother and then back to the ceiling.

"I'm just trying to figure out why Dad is letting us stay with Papa for a while."

"Its so that Papa could make up for lost father-sons time with us. Did you forget what Dad told you?"

"Mattie, you and I both know that there is more to that than Dad told us. I have no idea what that may be but I have this feeling that what Dad told us is the real reason why we're staying with Papa." Matthew wanted to shout at Alfred to stop being so damn paranoid and skeptical about everything. It was getting on Matthew's nerves that he just wanted to tell Alfred to shut up. Those words wanted to flow out of his mouth and yet they would never come out.

Arthur heavily sighed as he sat outside of his therapist's office. This was his first appointment and he was nervous. He'd never had to tell anyone his feelings or his story so he could get help. I don't know why I didn't think about getting help sooner. He thought. There were times where he swore to himself that he would get the help he needed and he would always forget about it later. I'm doing this for the boys. He reminded himself. Arthur had good intentions to why he was doing this. While he felt guilty about lying about the real reason why they were living with their other father but he didn't want all of this on their minds.

Soon he was called into the office. When he walked into the office he noticed that it was the typical therapist office. There was the chair the man or woman would sit in, the little long bed/chair thing the patient would sit in, a couple bookshelves in the room filled with many books, and the plants in the corners. Of course the room was painted a dark brown and there was a maroon carpeting. Arthur had to admit, he wished his study at home was like this.

"Ah, you must be Arthur Kirkland. I'm your therapist Dr. Vainamoinen but please call me Tino! Please lie down on the bed mister!" The therapist said in a cheery tone. Arthur took notice that his therapist was Finnish. He had light blond hair and violet eyes and he was wearing a casual shirt and a pair of blue jeans with a pair of sneakers. Arthur laid down on the bed and looked at the ceiling.

"So Arthur, why don't you start from your childhood. You had a good one yea?" Arthur remained silent. He wasn't too comfortable telling a complete stranger his life story. How he was able to do this when he was talking to the CPS guy was something Arthur would never be able to fathom but he was here now and there's no turning back at this point.

"Arthur, did you have a good childhood or no?" Arthur snapped out of his daydream and took a deep breath.

"No. I didn't have a really good childhood. My father was an alcoholic and my mother would neglect me. Sometimes even beat me. When he got drunk he would beat me and my brothers and my mother. He would call us names, blame us for never having any money for himself, he would shout at Mummy. Mummy would even neglect me. Lock me in my room with no food for days on end, never buy me clotes unless someone bothered her about it, she'd even shout at me and join in whenever Father would beat us. We grew up poor so there was never enough money to get food or clothing or keep up with house payments. There was one time we were evicted." Arthur stopped right there. He didn't want to go further than that eviction. It was a terrible time.

"What happened when your family was evicted?"

"My father went off the deep end. We ended up having to live in an alleyway. Everyday we would beg for pounds but no one would give us any. Sometimes we were lucky but then that was when some bloke was trying to impress someone he really liked or when someone was telling Father to get off his lazy arse and get a job."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Miserable. My father found a way to make us some money but... it was a way that left a permanent scar in my mind and something I can never go to sleep or go about my daily business without thinking about." Tino scribbled down the notes and remained quiet for a moment before an idea entered his mind.

"Arthur, I want you to do something for me. Think of the best memory of your life and then the worst moment in your life."

"Which one shall I start with?"

"The best memory of your life is a good place to start."

"My best memory has to be during the summer one year. My dad came home sober and he didn't drink and my mother was actually feeding me that day. He came home from work early and took us to London. We rode the London Eye, we saw Big Ben up close, we saw everything there was to see in the city. It was my favorite day and its a memory I keep going back to but then the next day, we fell back into our old routine. Dad beat us extra hard the next day for making him spend the bonus he got but I got it the hardest because, at the time, I was the youngest son."

"Now I want you to think about the worst moment of your life."

"The worst moment of my life was when my dad had my mum sell her body for money."

"So your father turned your mother into-"

"A prostitute. My mother turned into a prostitute and my father was her pimp." This was the worst moment in Arthur's life. Arthur didn't want to remember this moment nor did he like thinking about it when he looked at pictures of himself when he was younger. Everytime men who had done it with his mother saw him or his brothers, they would always tell them that his mother was the best fuck they ever had. Then there was the religious people in the country.

Due to the prostitution the people who knew them would always call them the family of sin. Arthur couldn't blame them then and he can't blame them now. They were right. Arthur tried to forget his life in England before he met Francis but the memories of his childhood would come back to haunt him making it impossible for him to sleep or go through out his daily routine. Some days it was a miracle that he didn't think about it.

"Please, tell me what happened. That's what I'm here for."

"I suppose I have to. Since my parents gave the Kirkland family name a bad reputation with whoring Mummy out and Daddy being her pimp we were often made fun and ridiculed. We could barely go anywhere and when we did go somewhere we were given disgusted glares and insults thrown our way. We were considered trash so much that no one wanted to help us nor wanted anything to do with us. My absolute worst memory was one night I couldn't sleep because Mummy and Daddy were arguing with a customer. I had no idea what they were arguing about but I knew it was about something.

"The next thing I knew, Daddy harshly grabbed me by the arm and pushed me into one of Mummy's regulars. I didn't know what he would want with me until he... he... he raped me. There was so much blood and I cried and begged for it to stop. He took me for six rounds before he got tired of me. He paid my parents double what he would pay for my mother and walked out. I was so broken I couldn't look at myself and it hurts to look at pictures of myself when I was younger and its hard to look at myself now because of that night." Arthur cried as he thought about that night. Memories of that night invaded his mind. The screaming, the crying, the begging for it all to stop, the cold and insensitive looks on his parents' faces when the man was finally finished. It was all too much and it made him break down and start to cry. Tino scribbled down more notes and handed Arthur a couple of tissues.

"Thank you Tino."

"It is no problem. Now I believe the hour is over. I hope you're able to sleep tonight and sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in anyway. Telling this sort of thing to a therapist can be very scary and not practicle but you'll warm up to me soon. Will I see you next week?"

"Of course you will. This is the beginning of a broken man." Just like that, Arthur left.

When he got to his car he sat there and cried more. Arthur didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about the little boy he once was. Sure with his recent job loss he didn't want to lose his sense of dignity for money but he really didn't want to lose the dignity he gained after he left his family. No one, not even Francis, knew of this. Only his parents and the man who stole his piece of mind and his then childhood innocence knew. His brothers knew it was a bad dream but that was only a lie they'd been told by their mother to cover up their father's sin.

He got home just in time to see Yao walking inside. Arthur wiped his tears away and walked in seeing his friend crying over his own problems. Something in Arthur wanted to ask him what was wrong but then Yao would want to know what was wrong with him and why his eyes were red and puffy. Instead he just ignored it and went upstairs and continued to cry at his worst memory. The night his childhood came to a crashing end. All Arthur wanted to do was forget. How could he forget when he was forever haunted?

Meanwhile, Tino had started to cry himself. Arthur's story made him very emotional enough to cry. How could a mother and father ever do that to their poor child? He wiped his tears away when he heard a knock at his door. He opened it to see Berwald, his husband, at the door. They kissed as Berwald held Tino.

"Ready t' go T'no?"

"Yea. Is Peter in the car?"

"I haven't picked him up y't. He's still with Matthias at t'e house. How was y'ur day?"

"Let's just say, I'm happy I took the new case and I think I found one of Peter's relatives." Berwald's eyes widened then he hugged Tino. For a while they had been trying to search for Tino's older brothers so that they wouldn't have to go through the trouble of adopting another child. Just because they were a homosexual couple, they were considered a couple to never be considered to raise children but getting Peter as their son was a miracle.

"Lets go. Peter's waiting for us." Tino said tugging Berwald with him. He was glad he took on Arthur Kirkland as a client. If he didn't, he didn't know what could happen to them as a family.

Francis was making dinner for the boys when he stopped for a moment to look at the cuts that were starting to heal on his fist. He was surprised no one asked him about it yet. Elizabeta told him to get help for fear that he might have depression or some sort of bipolar disorder. The Frenchman knew where his friend was coming from and the worry that was behind it but Francis didn't want the boys to worry about him. He already had to find therapy for him and the boys for the cutting but Francis would have to go to a doctor later to see if he has depression.

He sighed. Francis knew that there might be something wrong with him but he didn't want to worry anyone like he had done Elizabeta. He had to book a doctor's appointment later and then book therapy for the boys. How he was going to get them to go through with it was a major hurdle. Alfred would be declining the therapy being the stubborn boy Arthur said he grew into and Matthew would never say anything to the therapist.

"Papa?" Francis was broken out of his thoughts when he heard Alfred's voice. He turned to his son who had his phone in his hand.

"What is it?"

"I have something to do for Eagle Scouts tomorrow."

"Your father told me you got into the Eagle Scouts. What do you have to do tomorrow?"

"I have to go around and do work for people for service hours. I was wondering if I could go around the apartment building tomorrow."

"Ok Alfred, but I want you to stay away from the grouch who lives on the floor below this one." Alfred wanted to question why but he didn't. Sure the guy yelled at him but he was sure he was either depressed about something or he had been living alone for a while and didn't interact with his neighbors much. Maybe there was a story behind it all but Alfred didn't think much of it. Instead he just nodded.

"Will do Papa."

"Good, now can you get your brother? Dinner is ready and I have to have a word with you two." Alfred disappeared and came back with Matthew in tow. The brothers sat at the table as dinner was being placed. Francis sat down and heavily sighed.

"Boys, I'm a cutter. I cut myself and I know you both cut yourselves too. I tried to get clean but then up until recently that never happened. Look, to make this brief I'm going to sign us up for therapy and-"

"Therapy? Isn't that for crazy people?" Alfred interrupted.

"Please don't interrupt me Alfred. Yes, we're going to go through therapy."

"Why should I have to go?"

"The doctor said that you should go to therapy while you're still recovering and you also have to eat. There will be no more discussion abou this, we, including you, are going and that is final. No arguing." Alfred resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he grabbed his dinner. He thought he didn't need therapy like the doctor suggested. He was just fine, right?

Me: Finally... finished... this... chapter! Omigod! Sorry if this chapter was just bleh. I've never written a story THIS long before! And if you ask me, we are either just getting started with the story or we are somewhere in the middle or getting close to the core. Wherever we are in the story I can say this for sure, we are far from finished. Stay tuned my friends. And about one more thing, I cannot write for Sweden! I cannot write his freaking speech pattern worth a crap! Um, sorry if that little bit with Berwald and Tino wasn't too much detailed or didn't provide that much to this already complicated story line but I promise I will explain next chapter. Anyways, I hope you loved this chapter and I hope you stay tuned for more. If you liked then follow, favorite, or review! This is Janae A.K.A. OrgyMemberXVII signing off! Bye :D