"Perfect!" Alfred cried out excitedly, his eyes shining brightly as he picked up the frog. Matthew grimaced at the slimy creature in his brother's hands, taking a step back.
"Alfie..." Matthew began, unsure as to whether this new game would actually be as much fun as Alfred had boasted it would. He glanced back at the door to their little townhouse, wringing out his six year old hands nervously.
"Shh, open the door Mattie!" His elder brother urged on, struggling with the frog squirming in his hands. Matthew hesitated another moment before opening the back door to the town house and scurrying inside. Alfred followed quickly, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of his new game.
The two shuffled inside, tracking mud into the small home. They were about to play their newly invented game when Arthur almost shrieked.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" He cried, staring at the frog and at the children. Two pairs of eyes widened in fright and Arthur could already see tears forming in Matthew's violet blue orbs. "I mea-I mean what are you doing with a frog?" He asked at a softer pitch. He couldn't stand it when the two cried.
Matthew rubbed at his eyes and Alfred hung his head down. "We we're gonna play Moses and the plagues and I thought we could have a frog..." He mumbled.
"Alfred, you mustn't bring a frog into the house. Now, put that back outside alright?" Arthur scolded softly.
Alfred pouted and let out a dramatic sigh, "Fine." He dropped the frog outside, and closed the door. "Then.. Will you play with us?"
Arthur should have been finishing that suit for an important client. He also should go shopping for some last minute school supplies. In fact, he had countless things to do that Saturday morning in late August. But at that very moment when those pair of blue eyes looked up at him so hopefully he couldn't say anything other than,
"Alright."
"Yay!" Alfred bounced up clapping his hands together in glee."Ok. Then you can be the evil egyp-egypticans."
"Egyptians." Arthur corrected, a small smile appearing on his face, "And what should I do?"
"You gotta be angry. See, I'm Moses the hero and I'm gonna free my people and Mattie is Aaron, my sidekick." Alfred explained easily.
"Oh, I see."
"Ooh! I know! Papa! Papa can be the frog!" Alfred suddenly said when he heard footsteps upstairs. Arthur smiled, letting out a light laugh and ruffling the little boys hair.
"I quite like the idea, Alfred." He agreed.
Alfred felt his grin increase in size as he quickly ran off to the living room. Or tried to. Arthur, though, held him back.
"First. Take your shoes off, they're filthy." He said sternly. Alfred let out a whine but did as he was told, flinging his shoes off and scurrying into the living room. Matthew quickly followed after him, silent as ever. He had talked to them since they adopted them in early June, but it was few words and at rare times. Arthur entered the room after the two boys at a much more leisurely pace as Francis was dragged from the stairs to the center of the room.
"So what is going on?" The Frenchman asked, tilting his head at how the little boy gripping his hand jumped around excitedly.
"We're gonna play a game! And you're in it!" Alfred shouted, brimming with enthusiasm.
"Oh, how exciting!" Francis agreed, smiling down at him.
"Ok, I'm a start now." Alfred said moving to stand in front of the Englishman. "I, Moses tell you to let my people go!" He yelled dramatically. Arthur had to contain a chuckle and put on his most serious face.
"No." He responded firmly.
"Are you sure?" Alfred asked, just to be sure.
"Quite." Arthur replied, crossing his arms for good measure.
"Fine. Frogs! I choose you!" The little boy cried, his finger pointing toward the Brit and his lips turned upward in a triumphant smirk.
Arthur waited with a raised brow as nothing happened. Alfred pouted and glared at his French adopted father. Francis blinked as he received the glare.
"Papa! You're suppose to attack!" Alfred whined.
"I am?" The longer haired blond asked, tilting his head.
"Yes! You're the plague of frogs." Alfred said matter of factly, as if it was a well known fact.
"Oh." Francis held in a chuckle, "Right, well, now I know."
"K. Frogs I choose you! Attack!" The boy repeated, just as loud.
"Right!" Francis stepped forward toward his husband who looked at him skeptically. And then, suddenly, he pounced. With a devilish smirk, he began to tickle the blond, dragging him down to the ground. The other man let out a surprised squawk before erupting into a fit of light laughs as he tried to fight off the overpowering Frenchman. Oh, Francis liked this game very much.
Then, his blue eyes eyed Alfred, standing there smugly. He backed away slightly, letting Arthur get his breath back. "Oh...But it seems to me the frogs are having a change of heart..." He murmured, watching as Alfred's face morphed into a confused expression.
And then he attacked, tickling the little boy fiercely as he cried out. "St-Stop!" Alfred pleaded, laughing hysterically at the Frenchman's hands. But Francis wasn't done there. He spotted the other boy, standing there smiling at them shyly in his own little corner.
His hand shot out, grabbing the others ankles and pulling him toward them. Matthew let out a surprised squeak before he became a victim to a barrage of tickles. The twins laughed under the merciless attack and Francis couldn't help but laugh along with them.
That is, until the doorbell rang. Francis stopped his tickling, the twins quieted down and Arthur got up to answer the door. He stepped out and closed the door behind him quickly. Francis took a step back, rising from the ground to watch the door better.
"Papa?" Alfred questioned, sitting up with another, more concerned, confused expression.
"Shh." Francis quieted, moving closer to the door in order to hear what was going on. Soon they could hear yelling. Francis stepped outside too and the yelling increased. The twins sat there, looking at each other worriedly.
Finally, after a very loud angry shout the door slammed open and the couple stomped inside. Arthur ripped up a piece of paper harshly, dumping it into a trash bin before storming up the stairs. Francis let out a tired sigh and moved to follow his husband when a voice stopped him.
"What's going on, Papa?" Alfred asked, looking scared.
Francis softened, stepping away from the stairs to move closer to the boys. "Nothing you need to worry about, mes enfants." He assured, smiling down at them. Alfred pouted slightly.
"And the game?" He questioned.
"We will finish it later. I must go check on Daddy, I'll be right back." And he quickly hurried up the stairs.
The twins shared a look before Alfred quickly scurried over to the bin. He stuck his hand in and fished out the pieces of papers with little difficulty.
"Alfie... That's private..." Matthew mumbled as his brother sat down on the floor, laying out the pieces of paper in front of him.
"I wanna know what happened so I can fix it. I'm the hero." He defended stubbornly, turning fragments of the page about in hopes of piecing it back together. Matthew sighed but, nevertheless, came over to help his twin brother.
Four little hands worked at the page until it seemed to make sense.
"P-Petishon to ev-evict the Bonnefoy family." Matthew read with some difficulty at the top of the page.
"Whats petishon? And ev-evict?" Alfred asked, puzzled.
Matthew shrugged, scanning down the sheet of paper. "These look like names." He pointed out, pressing his finger towards the lists of names.
"Yeah... Its weird..." Alfred couldn't make sense of the page and quickly gathered it up to stuff it back in its bin when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
At first, school had been fine. Alfred made some friends, and both twins were doing well grade wise. And then, things went down hill on a half day near the end of September.
The buses weren't running so parents had to pick up their kids. Alfred and Matthew were waiting outside with the other kids in their grade. Few people were actually leaving yet as parents took the opportunity to meet their child's new classmates and their parents, making small talk, setting up play dates and embarrassing their children. Alfred was talking to one of his classmates and his father about some new game he was hoping to get when a familiar car drove up.
Arthur stepped out of the car nervously after parking it (the round about was clogged with vehicles so he had to go into the parking lot a little ways away), scanning the crowd for his twin boys before finally spotting them. "Alfred! Matthew!" He called, but wasn't heard. He sighed, realizing he'd actually have to maneuver through the crowd to get to his boys.
He felt foolish. He shouldn't be so self conscious. He shouldn't have to live like this. With that in mind he straightened himself up, pushing his way through the crowd (politely of course) until he reached his adopted sons.
"Alfred, Matthew time to go." He stated, the boys turning to him quickly when they heard his voice.
"Dad! Dad this is my friend Mikey and his dad Mr. Douglas." Alfred introduced excitedly, tugging on the Brit's arm. The arm that had suddenly stiffened. Green eyes widened as they fell upon the slightly taller man in front of him who looked equally shocked.
"What are you doing here?" The other man gasped, his hands jerking his son closer to him protectively.
"Picking up my sons." Arthur snapped, hands tightening around Alfred's and Matthew's smaller ones.
"You can't have kids." Mr. Douglas spat.
"I can adopt." Arthur snarled back.
"What are you doing to them, you sicko?"
"I'm raising them. Don't make a scene." Arthur hissed, though, he could already feel everyone's eyes on them, mostly him.
"I don't want you or your faggot children anywhere near my son." Mr. Douglas said angrily, assuring that the attention of the other parents was drawn and kept.
"Don't you dare call them that!" Arthur shouted back.
"Why can't you just move? Its bad enough your in the neighborhood, now your infecting our school?" The man continued, "Is this some ploy just to get closer to little boys, you perverted faggot!"
"I would never do such a thing! I'm not arguing this. My sons have every right to go to this school! Come on Alfred, Matthew. We're leaving." The Englishman hurried them through the crowd back into the car, trying to ignore the angry glares and the whispers. Those fucking whispers.
Matthew and Alfred looked at each other with worry filled frightened eyes as they were pushed into the car and buckled in. Arthur quickly got in himself, shoving the key into the ignition and speeding out. He knew this would happen. He knew it. Damn it. If only they had the money...Then they would leave this hell hole. It was no place to raise the twins that was for sure, he needed to get them out of here as soon as possible.
But for now, he had no choice.
"Dad?" Alfred spoke up, interrupting the elder man's thoughts.
"What, Alfred?" Arthur asked tiredly, flicking his gaze toward the mirror to see the boy fidgeting with his shirt.
"What does 'faggot' mean?"
Arthur stiffened, turning around to level the blond twin a stern look. "Don't you ever, ever, say that word again. Do you hear me? Its a horrible word and I won't stand for you using it."
"What does that word mean?" Ivan asked, tilting his head slightly and pausing in petting the soft blond locks. Alfred had stopped talking, his eyes drooping tiredly and mouth set in a frown. In fact, he hadn't smiled since he begun his tale.
After a moment, Alfred answered, "It's like a demeaning word for a gay person." Ivan nodded, locking the definition into his memory. If he recalled correctly, the nurse in the hospital those weeks ago had called him something similar...
"Can we go to bed now?" Alfred asked not really enjoying reliving his early childhood. Especially when he was so exhausted.
"Nyet, I want to know more."
"Whats there to know? We were fuckin' bullied for seven or so months until we finally moved away."
"What do you mean by bullied? I have never been before...What is it like?"
"It feels like shit Ivan. And if its physical than it hurts like shit too." Alfred snapped, his hands balling into fists. Ivan resumed petting at his hair, smoothing down the golden strands until Alfred relaxed. The American let out a yawn, "Fine, I'll continue the fuckin' story. Alright, well, one of the worst bullying cases I remember was when those little shitheads wrote on Mattie."
After the half day incident, school was much more difficult for the twins. Word spread fast and soon Alfred and Matthew became the children of the fag couple. They lost their friends quite quickly, it was amazing how easily they left there sides once their parents spoke to them. And those few students who didn't have parents like that were too scared to still talk to them.
Rumors began to spread.
I heard if one touches you, then you become a fag like them.
My Dad told me that if you speak to them they'll trick you into going into their house.
Soon after, the bullying started.
"Leave him alone!" Alfred yelled, trying to retrieve his brother from the crowd of boys. Matthew was already crying, covering his ears from the torrent of name calling rather than actually shield himself. To him, the words hurt more than anything.
Alfred pushed them off hoisting Matthew up from the ground where he had been held down, keeping himself in front of his little brother protectively. They always picked on Matthew, always.
Arthur had told them to ignore the bullies until they went away. He promised them they would lose interest soon enough. He was wrong. When they ignored them, the teasing became violent. And they targeted Matthew because they perceived him as the weaker one, and they knew if they attacked him Alfred would defend him without question.
Arthur had assumed that if there was ever a real fight a teacher would break it up. He was wrong, again. The teacher's didn't care if some of the boys picked on either of the twins. Frankly, after finding out who they were, they wanted them out of their classrooms. Whenever either twin threw a punch of their own though, they were immediately reprimanded.
Alfred hated it.
"Dad, I don't want to go! You can't make us go! Please!" He would beg, and beg, and beg. But all Arthur could do was hug him close and whisper apologies. They didn't have the money to send them to a private school. They didn't have the money to move. And no one would buy the house in its current condition.
The only thing that ever made it better was getting home. Home was safe. Home was where Daddy and Papa hugged them tightly, thanked them for being brave and promised them a better future. Alfred only wished he could stay at home forever and never have to go to school ever again.
Still, they had to. And it only got worse, and worse.
"Mattie! Give him back! Mattie!" Alfred yelled, as he was held back by one of the stronger boys. Mattie was thrashing in the hold another boy had him in and Alfred couldn't tell what they were doing from where he stood. All he knew was that his brother was begging them to stop.
"We're just warning other to stay away." The boy holding him sneered and Alfred tried to elbow him in the ribs. "Dad says we have to protect the people who don't know you guys are fags." He continued on, undeterred.
"Leave us alone!" Alfred yelled, finally ripping free, as the bus they were on lurched to a stop. His stop. Alfred lunged for his brother, grabbing his hand and dragging him off as quickly as possible. They had released him so it wasn't too difficult. Matthew hurried behind him, his other hand covering his forehead as he cried freely.
Once they were off the bus, Alfred realized he'd forgotten their school bags but the bus was already closing its doors to move.
"Forgot these!" The bullies shouted from an open window, dumping their school bags out before flinging them themselves out onto the curb. Alfred let go of his brother, scurrying to retrieve their stuff as best as he could. It was muddy though but he didn't care. He just stuffed the papers and notebooks in the two bags and ran back. He nudged Matthew who quickly followed him inside of the empty house.
Arthur didn't come home usually until 20 minutes after they got home. Francis came around a little later.
"Mattie. Mattie, what did they do?" Alfred asked, dumping their bags and looking at his brother with large worried eyes.
Matthew hiccuped, shaking his head. "I-I don't know!" He cried, rubbing at his runny noise. "Th-they wrote on me. Wh-what does it say?" He asked desperately, uncovering his forehead.
Alfred bit his lip, in shaky yet determined scrawl was written FAG on the little boy's forehead. "They wrote the bad word." Matthew let out a whimper, covering it with his hand.
"Don't worry, Mattie! I'll wash it off!" Alfred quickly assured, taking his hand and running to the bathroom. He grabbed their step up ladder from under the counter and motioned for Mattie to stand on it. He himself simply climbed onto the counter ignoring his brother's "We're not suppose to do that."
Matthew held his hair back tightly as Alfred turned on the faucet. After soaking the poor boys forehead Alfred took the hand soap and scrubbed at the skin as best he could. After each rinse, the sharpie marker proved resilient, only lightening in shade. Alfred scrubbed harder, only succeeding in making his brother's forehead bright red.
"It'll never come off!" Matthew sobbed, seeing himself being ridiculed for the rest of his life because of the stupid marking. Alfred himself was close to tears because he hated it when his brother cried, especially when he couldn't fix the problem. And he'd tried so hard.
"Alfred, Matthew? I'm home!" Came a voice from down the hall.
"Dad! Dad'll fix it! He can fix anything!" Alfred cried out, grabbing his brothers arm and dragging him back toward the front door. Arthur was putting down his bag, turning his head at the now familiar patter of tiny feet on the floor.
"What happened?" He immediately asked worriedly as he saw the state of the two boys, one crying and the other close to doing so himself.
"The mean kids wrote the bad word on Mattie!" Alfred explained, pushing his brother in front of him to show. Arthur's eyes widened as he saw the red forehead with the gray but distinct lettering. He quickly picked Matthew up, holding him tight.
"Shh, don't worry. It will come off. I know just what to use." He assured softly, smoothing down the wavy hair. He ascended the stairs, Alfred at his heels who recounted the entire story of what had happened on the bus.
Once they'd reached the master bathroom, Arthur set Matthew down on the counter so he could sit. The boy wiped at his red, irritated eyes, looking absolutely miserable. The elder man leaned over, opening the cabinet to take out his and Francis shaving cream.
"Close your eyes." Matthew obeyed as Arthur squeezed some of the cream onto his hand to rub at his defiled skin. "I'm going to wash it off now, keep them closed." He eased the boy down to better wash off the cream before drying it off with a towel carefully.
Matthew blinked his eyes opened and looked into the mirror. There was still faint gray on his forehead but it was illegible. "The rest will wash off come bath time." Matthew smiled brightly, turning back around to give his adoptive father a grateful hug, burying his wet face into his chest.
"I'm sorry." Arthur whispered in return, placing Matthew back on the ground beside his twin.
"Dad, please don't make us go back! Please!" Alfred begged, looking up at the blond with big sad blue eyes. Arthur hated seeing them so miserable.
"I'm sorry." He could only say again. And it hurt him to say that.
Alfred glared at the ground.
"...Wh-Why?" Matthew squeaked out, grasping Arthur's attention in a second. Had the boy actually spoken to him? It was so very rare... "Why do we have to go!" It was so quiet, but held the same force as one of Alfred's tantrums.
Arthur bent down, "We don't have enough money to move, Matthew. We're saving though. We'll leave, I promise we will. But we can't just yet."
Matthew bit his lip and looked down at the floor.
"But, you two don't have to go to school, tomorrow. Ok? I'll stay home and we'll do whatever you want. We'll watch movies, have ice cream. Anything." Arthur quickly stated, the guilt hurting him too much. Sure, he should go to work so they could make more money so they could get out but this was more important.
If he could make those two little twin boys smile for just one day he'd sacrifice all he had.
"And?" Ivan pressed, looking down at the boy in his lap. Alfred had been pausing more and more as he told his story. And now he had stopped entirely.
Ivan wanted to know. He'd never been bullied, everyone was much too afraid of him. He was consumed by the tale, holding the shorter teen closer to himself protectively as he spoke. If he could, he would walk to that neighborhood and burn it to the ground. Pound the neighbors into the cement with his pipe and make their children scream.
Those who hurt his Alfred and made him suffer should pay. Would pay if he could perhaps procure an address.
"Alfred?" He hissed, prodding at the teen softly finding that he had succumb to sleep. His violet eyes flicked at the digital clock on the night stand, 2:38 am. It was late. He pouted, he'd have to interrogate him again later for the rest but, he supposed, for now he would be fine with sleeping. Especially beside the blond.
Carefully, he rearranged the other so that his head rested against a pillow instead of his lap before lying down beside him. He pulled the covers over themselves, turning on his side to face the sleeping teen. Alfred squirmed closer unconsciously, trying to find comfort in the others warm body.
"Спокойной ночи." (Good night) Ivan whispered softly, kissing his forehead before wrapping an arm around him to bring him closer. "Точно так же, как Вы сказали, что Вы поможете мне с моими кошмарами, я помогу Вам в вашем собственном. Сон хорошо, дорогой." (Just like you said you would help me with my nightmares, I will aid you in your own. Sleep well, dear.)
I heard somewhere that shaving cream gets rid of sharpie really easily. Anyway, voila, new chapter. Ugg I hate it. This chapter... I'm just not happy with it. I don't what it is but I find it repulsive...
It's also short...orz
Sigh... Anyways, I hope you guys at least enjoy it.
Next chapter: Christmas family time~
Review, Review my charming little lovelies.