Epilogue

"You're expecting visitors soon, Mister Bonnefoy?"

A wistful smile reached the man's stubbly face. He pulled himself from gazing distantly out the living room window, to the caretaker puttering around his house. "Is it because of my tie?"

His company tittered, "It could have something to do with you wanting six cups of tea."

Francis closed the notebook on his lap, and tugged on the wheels of his wheelchair to face the woman. "You remembered yourself!"

"I know you would not let me forget." She noticed the book protectively cherished in his lap. "Are you still working on that demon story? How long has it been? Eight months?"

"These things take time!"

The caretaker giggled, dishing out tea plates around the coffee table. A long whistle sounded from the kitchen, and she looked up in alarm. "Oh, that must be the water boiling."

"Be careful with that kettle!" Francis called as she hurried out of the living room. "It is an antique!" He said aloud, "Bought from my sons' sixteenth Christmas."

He glanced to the window again, grayed eyebrows raising as a bright flash flickered between the trees across the street. He smiled, easing against his chair. Within moments, the front door opened, and an intruder leaped into view with his hands spread out. "Surprise!"

"It is no surprise to see you happy, Alfred."

"Aw, shucks, Pops, it's good to see you, too!" The man hurried over to give his father an emergency hug. "How's the hip?"

"Ah, it's been better." Francis looked behind his son. "Where is that angel of yours?"

"Right here," another voice barked from the hall, then the door slammed shut. Arthur entered the living room with a cloth bag draped in his hand, and nodded to the other old man. "Hello, Francis."

"Aïe!" Francis shielded an arm over his face. "It is an evil eyebrow monster that came to bring my demise!"

"Quiet, you," Arthur warned. "Do you want your teas or not?"

"Of course! India this time?"

"No, Morocco."

"Ah," Francis took a deep inhale from inside the bag. "Mint is too underrated."

Alfred glanced around. "Where's Mattie at?"

"Not here, yet, I'm afraid. Give them time. It is a longer journey than you take." Francis swished a hand to the couch. "Sit, sit! The Missus is boiling water as we speak."

The duo snuggled into the worn cushions, and Arthur heavily sighed to get off his feet. "Longer journey, but that does not mean it is harder."

"Welcome to the 'Over the Hill' club," the old man chuckled, earning a deserved scowl. Nowhere nearly white as him, Arthur had the beginnings of old age, told by the crinkles around his vibrant eyes, and loose strands of gray hair sticking from his blond mop. Alfred slung an arm over his shoulders, acting as he was young as ever with angelic vibes always against his side. "So, Morocco, oui? Is the water relief going well?"

"Yeah!" Alfred grinned. "It's great! You know they have this thing now that you can stick in the ocean, and turn on the faucet, and boom, fresh water right then and there."

Hands clasped his shoulders. "You think that's cool? Go and see the castle they made entirely out of ice in Northern Canada. The Prime Minister is living in it with her ten cats."

Alfred rolled his eyes at his brother hissing in his ear and lazily batted at the necklace of blood dangling from his neck. "Real cool, man. I don't see an ice castle saving people's lives."

"You'll see!" Matthew lightly protested, and straightened as Ivan's loving hand rested on his shoulder. "With the ever-expanding population, these ice houses are going to help people thrive in the Artic and Antarctic!"

"Woo, party with the polar bears and penguins! Well...what's left of them, anyway."

"Matthieu!" Francis held his arms out. "Come here and give Papa an hug."

"Hugs!" Ivan exclaimed, rushing over to get his fair share back pats as well.

The caretaker entered the quaint living room with a tray of steaming cups, and hesitated at all of these beasts taking over the place. "Oh, you must be Mr. Bonnefoy's..." She glanced between the twin's smarmy grins. "Grandchildren?"

Alfred giggled. Matthew purposely stepped on his foot as he went for the recliner. "His sons, actually."

"Really? Oh! You two look so young!"

"Thanks."

Ivan grumbled as he plopped beside Arthur, who did not react, "What about me?"

Francis finally parted with notebook, to the coffee table, and reached for his cup. "Oui, my boys, and their husbands. They are a rowdy bunch."

"Mostly because of Alfred."

"Whoa, Mattie, I thought you were my bro! What's up with that?"

Arthur ignored the squabbles he was in the middle of, focused on dunking a tea bag in his cup. "How is your current story running along?"

"Bien! Ah, I mean, very well. That is nice of you to ask," Francis said almost suspiciously. Arthur narrowed his eyes, too, before tipping his mug back.

Ivan asked, "That is the one where everything, as they say, goes to Hell, yes?" The caretaker offered a cup, and he gleefully received. Francis nodded, glancing up a few times from stirring his drink to his sons.

"Jeez, old man," Alfred performed a little wiggle in his seat when the lady approached with his own cup. "How many more stories you got in you?"

"As many as I want! I need at least two more before I need to install another shelf for my awards. Oh, sorry, you'll have to install it."

"Dad!"

Matthew snickered into his tea.

"Is this one gonna be as creepy as the last one?"

Francis glanced around his family, and his aged cheeks rose from a blissful smile. "Non, this one will end with a happier note."

A.N.- The End. LOL. It is interesting to witness how your own story shifts and changes from its original piece. In the beginning, this was supposed to be like, ten chapters max, kind of a 'get in, get out' situation with the demons, and little to no relationship development at all. Then, I was thinking BLOOD AND DEATH AND OH, THE HORROR, because angels and demons oh my, but nah. I wound up with something in between. Hopefully, it's better that way.

As of March 2018 I can't believe I'm still writing for this fandom but these ideas won't leave me alone, so I'm in the draft progress of writing a companion piece of this story, following Alfred's POV. If something like that sounds like your cup of tea or coffee, hopefully, I'll get it out within the next few months.

February 2019- JEEZ SOMEONE HELP ME I'M STILL GOING AT IT. Hopefully. HOPEFULLY, this will be the last major edit of this hunk of junk I can't get out of my trunk. Anyway, the companion piece is finished as well, and I'll be putting that up shortly.