There's a pair of bright blue sneakers at the door, cookie crumbs on the table, and a hoodie thrown carelessly over the back of the chair. Mathew knows this can only mean one thing. His half-brother Alfred is visiting. Almost immediately Mathew feels like he's intruding, and a part of him is already thinking if excuses to leave. He doesn't get the chance to retreat. He's barely in the house before he's accosted by arms around his neck, and Alfred throws himself at Mathew.

"Mattie!"

"Hey Al."

Mathew's voice comes out more tired than he expects and Alfred withdraws his arms with an unusually sharp expression and searches Mathew's face. Mathew doesn't know what Alfred reads there, but Alfred quickly finds a reason to leave him and Arthur alone, and Mathew's grateful for the rare show of sensitivity. Alfred's action only make Arthur's forehead crease more.

Arthur leads Mathew to the sitting room and pours him a cup of tea, but waits for Mathew to speak first. Mathew struggles to find the words. He's not sure how to explain the situation, the way Francis seems to be fading, his eyes growing darker day by day, the hopelessness that he and his siblings feel when they try to bring the light back into his eyes. How can he convince Arthur to go see Francis when they've been separated for so long? Will Arthur even agree? He fiddles with the teacup he's been passed, but when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. Arthur's frown deepens.

He hears a clatter of dishes from the kitchen, Alfred's way of telling him he's not listening in, and Mathew reminds himself of his sisters' faces. This time he makes the words come out.

"Dad, wont you come visit Papa?"

Its a plea, a cry for help, but almost instantly Mathew knows its a lost cause. Arthur's face turns to stone.

"He's not doing well."

Mathew tries to explain, but he already knows he's not getting through to Arthur. Arthur is polite, and tries to sound understanding, but his answer remains firm. He will not go. The visit isn't even half an hour, and even though Arthur doesn't kick him out once they're done talking, Mathew knows he's not welcome anymore. Alfred sees him out, and there's a frown on his face, but he doesn't try to stop Mathew from leaving. Mathew doesn't really care anymore. His last hope just fell through. Mathew doesn't have any cards left to play.

His phone chimes in the taxi on the way back to the airport. Its Lucille.

"Will you be back soon?"

Francis must have gotten worse. Mathew fiddles with the phone, but doesnt respond. What can he say to his sisters? How can he tell them there's no help coming, that they're the only ones? He turns the phone off. The flight back seems too short, and Mathew stares blankly out the window the whole time. He wants to cry, but he wont let himself. It feels too much like giving up. It isn't until he's in the taxi on the way back that he turns his phone back on. His phone immediately chimes multiple times to announce texts, and he sees he has texts not only from Lucille, but Alfred and Michelle as well. He hesitates, then taps on Alfred's first.

'Hey Mattie. What's wrong with Francis? I heard from Dad.'

Francis. Even though Alfred doesn't call him "Papa" like Mathew, he knows Alfred still thinks of him as his family. Mathew realizes he should tell Alfred what's going on, but how could he explain it?

'Is there anything I can do to help?'

Mathew isn't sure there's anything anyone can do to help, but he's still grateful for Alfred's offer. The last text sends his heart fluttering with a faint hope.

'I'll talk to Dad.'

If anyone can get through to Arthur, Mathew knows it would be Alfred. Its no secret within the family that Alfred was Arthur's favorite, though Arthur always denied it. Mathew tries to squash the hope before it grows too big. Better to expect the worse than be disappointed. He only responds to the last thing Alfred said, a single word.

'Thanks.'

He opens Lucille's text next with a heavy heart, wishing he could give her better news. The text is short and terrifying, and Mathew feels like there's something heavy on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

'Come back quick.'

His mind rushes through reasons she needs him home faster, each worse than the last, and Mathew tries to shut them out as he responds to her text that he's on the way. Mathew is almost too scared to open Michelle's text, to get anymore bad news. He isn't sure he can keep himself together if he finds Francis has gotten worse. Already his mind is painting pictures of a dangerous situation, and the pale, cold form of his father. He tries to chase the picture away, and steels himself as he taps on the text to open it.

This text too, is short, but only the few words have Mathew's heart soaring with hope, a direct contrast to the heaviness only moments before.

'I think I saw Papa smile.'

Its almost too much to hope for, its not even a confident statement, but its enough to give Mathew strength. Because he knows that Michelle doesn't mean the forced polite smile, but a genuine smile from the heart. Suddenly the taxi doesn't seem to be moving fast enough, and Mathew just wants to jump out and run, and see the smile Michelle may have seen.

When the taxi pulls up Mathew almost forgets to pay, remembering the tip at the last moment, barely even noting the amount he presses into the driver's hand. He's barely in the door when he freezes, hearing a loud and raucous laughter that doesn't belong to anyone in his family. He's met at the door by Michelle, and her eyes are shining as she confides.

"Papa's friends came to visit."

It doesn't make sense how they even know where he was, or how they got there so fast, but Mathew knows his eyes aren't lying to him when he sees the trio on the couch. There's a familiar albino laying with his head on Francis' knee, and a familiar brunette sitting on the coffee table, clearly in the middle of telling a story, eyes alight with mischief. But the one Mathew focuses on isn't either of them. Its Francis. Francis isn't laughing, or even smiling, but he looks much more alive than he has the past few days, and Mathew thinks he can see a spark lighting back up in Francis' dimmed eyes.

Mathew doesn't even care if there's an empty wine bottle on the floor, or Antonio's rear on the table. For the first time in a long time, Mathew thinks that maybe Francis will be okay.