Chapter 9: Amelia...
Francis's eyes went wide, and an audible gasp of horror was heard. Arthur tried to ignore the dread pooling in his stomach as he rubbed sunscreen on his son's back, feeling the raised canvas of scars beneath his fingers. He finished applying it and handed Alfred his swim goggles, turning around to face Francis. Before he could complete the turn however, his wrist was grabbed and he was dragged into a small study. The Englishman yelped in surprise but was quickly shushed by a set of intense sapphire orbs staring deep into his own emerald ones.
"What 'appened mon amour?" Francis gently questioned, placing his hands on Arthur's shoulders.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Arthur firmly responded. The Frenchman's gaze never faltered, and Arthur felt the walls he had constructed begin to crumble. "I-I-I…" Arthur stammered, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. "Don't…" he swallowed heavily, his throat beginning to close up. "Know…" He croaked. He began to sob quietly, his eyes never leaving Francis's. The dam holding the flood of emotions broke loose, tears began to flow freely from his eyes, and he let out a single, heartbroken wail. Francis pulled the other man close, rubbing his back soothingly while Arthur buried his head in the other's chest, beginning to tell the story.
Flashback
Amelia E. Jones sat in the driver's seat of her bright red car, her four year old son napping in the backseat.
"Are you sure you'll be alright driving love?" Her husband, Arthur Kirkland, questioned over the speaker system in her car. "It is dark and the roads are fairly slippery."
"Oh Artie you're acting as if it's my first time driving a car. Really honey don't worry i'll be fine. Stop being such a worrier." She responded, adjusting her mirror and checking that Alfred was buckled in properly.
"I can't help but worry darling it's my job. I am, after all, your husband."
She rolled her eyes, clipping back her hair with a star shaped barrette. They chatted for a bit as she drove onto the highway. Traffic was light, and she was approaching their house fast.
"When will you and Alfred be home?" Arthur fretted, pacing the house. He always worried about Amelia when she drove, and the conditions today certainly didn't help with his anxiety.
"I'm five minutes away dear I just have to get off of the highwaaaaa!" The last word turned into a shriek as a drunk driver plowed into her side of the car, sending her through the guardrail and down the side of a small cliff.
"AMELIA!" Arthur shouted, hearing her's and Alfred's screams through the phone. He grabbed his car keys and drove like a madman to where his phone's tracker said she was. When he arrived, a crowd of paramedics and cop cars were already at the scene. He shoved through the crowd, ignoring any attempts to restrain him, and ran to where a small body was lying, surrounded by paramedics. "Alfred!" He yelled, rushing to his son's side. The person helping him turned the half conscious boy onto his stomach, and Arthur's stomach dropped at the sight that greeted him. Alfred's back was horribly cut up and bleeding freely, shards of glass embedded in his skin. The paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher, and Alfred stirred, a whimper of pain escaping his lips.
"D-daddy?" he asked, opening his blue eyes, two gems shining bright against a sea of cuts and dirt.
"Daddy's here." Arthur answered, gripping his son's hand reassuringly despite the paramedic telling him repeatedly to release it.
"Wh-where's mommy?" Alfred croaked out, his grip going limp as unconsciousness claimed him again.
Arthur's blood ran cold. Amelia
Arthur released Alfred's hand just before someone was about to forcibly remove it and ran to the nearest emergency vehicle. "Have you seen my wife? She was the one driving this car." He asked, nearly hysteric. The man he asked didn't even look up, instead pointed in the direction where the faintest glimmer of the red car could be seen. "Amelia!" Arthur screamed, startling the cop and causing him to fall over. Abandoning all rational thought, Arthur sprinted down the side of the ridge, passing rescue crews who shouted for him to stop. He reached the wreck of the car, where he spotted the glint of a familiar barrette.
"A-arthur?" A faint croak reached his ears, and Arthur sobbed with relief.
"I'm here darling everything will be alright." He soothed, getting her out of the car and laying her head on his lap. "The paramedics will be here soon and we'll get you to a hospital."
Amelia laughed bitterly, coughing up blood. "Arthur, sweetheart we both know that…" she trailed off, gasping for air. "I don't have much time left." she managed to choke out.
"Don't say that! You'll be fine! You have to be!" Arthur said frantically, trying to keep Amelia's eyes open.
She opened her eyes and smiled at him softly, raising her hand to caress his cheek. "Take care of Alfred for me… take care of our precious son… I love you Arthur…" she used the last of her strength to plant a kiss on Arthur's lips. Her head fell back onto his lap as the light in her eyes dimmed, and she took her final breath.
"Amelia?" Arthur questioned, lightly shaking her shoulders "Amelia please stay with me. Alfred needs you. I need you. I love you..." her head dropped to the side, eyes blank. "NO!" Arthur screamed, breaking down in tears and clutching her body. He screamed and wailed like a banshee, his heartbroken cries echoing around the ravine.
He finished recounting the horrible day, his sobs muffled by Francis's shirt. The Frenchman's arms encircled Arthur, and a drop hit Arthur's shoulder. Arthur looked up at Francis, seeing the beautiful blue eyes glazed with tears.
"I 'ad no idea… Je suis tellement désolé mon ange." Francis whispered, still comforting the other. Arthur looked up at the man who held him, and realized that for the first time in a year, he felt safe and loved. Maybe his heart was finally beginning to heal.
As Arthur and Francis cried, two almost identical faces poked out from behind the door, unnoticed. The boys began to walk back to the pool in silence, each thinking of what they saw. "Do you remember 'er?" Matthew finally asked in a near whisper, breaking the silence as they sat down on the edge of the pool.
"Mommy? Only a bit. Daddy told me that I look a lot like her, and that she was very nice." Alfred replied, kicking the surface of the water.
"What about ze accident?" Matthew carefully inquired, trying not to upset Alfred.
"All I remember is that I was in the car with mommy, then she screamed and everything went black. I woke up in a strange place with my back hurting, and daddy told me that mommy was gone." Alfred said, staring across the water as if he could see his mother there. Matthew raised a hand and touched one of the scars lightly, retracting it when Alfred flinched.
"Does zat 'urt?" Matthew asked Alfred, looking at the other boy's face.
"Not anymore." Alfred said, then sighed. "I wish daddy wouldn't be so sad."
"Papa is 'elping 'im. 'E cares about 'im." Matthew pointed out.
"Daddy looks at Francy the same way he used to look at mommy." Alfred said, looking off into the distance. Matthew laughed, bringing Alfred's attention back to him. "What's so funny Mattie?"
"Francy? Vraiment? You call Papa Francy?" Matthew giggled, lightly hitting Alfred's arm.
"Hey Mattie cut that out!" Alfred yelped as Matthew stood up and began to dart around him, poking him. In return, Alfred pushed Matthew into the pool, where he fell with a yelp.
"Alfie!" Matthew protested as he resurfaced, hair plastered to his forehead. He splashed water at Alfred, who stood up to avoid it but also fell into the water with a high pitched squeal. The boys chased each other around the pool, laughing and splashing water at each other.
Francis and Arthur emerged from the study, holding hands as they walked towards the pool, smiling fondly as the sight of their son's playing greeted them.
Arthur had a light feeling in his heart, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. He squeezed Francis's hand, a light blush dusting his cheeks.
I think I might be falling for him… but there's no one i'd rather fall for.