Chapter 11: Francis's turn to be traumatized

Arthur pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse, finding a spot near the front to park. As soon as he shut off the ignition, the passenger's side of the car flew open and Francis sprang out, stuffing his hands in his pockets and pacing down the length of the car, suddenly stopping and glaring fiercely. Arthur got out slowly, double checking that he had all the necessary documents and forms in his briefcase. He approached Francis, laying a hand on the other's shoulder and noting how tense Francis was.

"Everything alright?" He asked, following the direction of Francis's glare and noticing a bright yellow car.

"Zat iz 'er car." The Frenchman spat. "I can't believe zat she iz still driving it."

"How can you be sure? There are plenty of cars that have a yellow paint job." Arthur pointed out, skeptical.

"I gave 'er zat car." Francis said, then his head drooped. He turned away, about to walk into the building, but did not take a single step. Arthur noticed this and walked back to Francis's side, taking the Frenchman's hand in his own and leading him into the building.

Arthur was really glad that he was in front and Francis couldn't see his scarlet face. They entered the room where they would all meet, and to Arthur's surprise it was empty. Arthur set up his materials, taking documents and forms out of his briefcase. Francis sat down in a chair, twisting a pencil in his hand and whispering to himself in his native language.

"Ughhh Allen baby it's just a meeting with my bitchy ex to get him to hand over the kid." A nasally whine drifted through the hall, and Francis almost snapped the pencil. He stood up, preparing to stride out the door, but was stopped by Arthur. "No I don't know why the kid isn't already with me but I promise you'll love him!" Emillise squealed after a man, who Arthur assumed was Allen, asked her something.

Emillise entered the room, and Arthur had to stop his lip from curling in disgust. Instead of the beautiful woman that was in the photograph, he was faced with a short girl with a dyed black and highlighted pixie cut, dressed in a midriff bearing top, extremely short shorts, caked on makeup, finished with a pair of tacky, in Arthur's opinion, bright pink high heels. It certainly didn't help that there was a cigarette dangling from her pierced lip.

She sashayed over to Francis, who was glaring at her, and proceeded to drape herself over him and twirl her painted talons in his long hair. "Heeeey Frani~" she purred, seemingly oblivious to how Francis went rigid with shock, or that Arthur was standing there, visibly uncomfortable. "Wada ya say we just forget about all of this and you hand the kid over, alright sugar?" she batted her eyelashes.

"Remove your nails from my 'air, s'il vous plaît." Francis said, voice surprisingly calm and measured for someone in his situation.

"Oh don't be such a meanie. Now let's sign those silly papers and agree on child support. All I need is your signature and i'll pick the kid up later."

"No way in 'ell." Francis hissed through gritted teeth, stepping off to the side.

"He's my kid. I gave birth to him." she whined, blowing smoke in Francis's direction. He looked at her with venom in his eyes, wasting no time replying.

"Oui but who spent every moment with 'im? Who comforted 'im after a nightmare? Who cooked, cleaned, drove 'im to school? Who taught 'im 'ow to talk? Who loved 'im and cherished 'im like ze gift 'e is? Moi. Who barely remembers 'is name and ignores 'im? Tu. You can 'ave 'im over my dead body." He spat, voice rising until he was nearly screaming at the end. He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, trying not to let tears spill from his eyes. Francis suddenly spun around on his heel and fled the room, the clack of his shoes the only thing Arthur could hear.

"So does this mean the kid's mine?" Emillise asked, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Not if I have a say in it." Arthur called over his shoulder, exiting the room. He prowled the halls for a bit, trying to find Francis.

Where the hell did that blasted frog go? I do hope he is alright…

Muffled sobs caught his attention, and he entered the room that they seemed to be coming from, knocking on the door. The sobs cut off, and a red eyed Francis opened the door, looking hopeless. "Can I come in?" Arthur asked gently, talking to the other like you would to an injured animal. Francis nodded and opened the door, allowing Arthur to enter. As soon as it closed Arthur surprised Francis by hugging him fiercely, rubbing circles on the other's back. Francis buried his face in Arthur's shoulder, his own shaking with sobs. Arthur didn't push him away when he felt tears wetting his shirt, but instead began to make soft shushing noises, silently encouraging Francis to tell him what happened.

Flashback

Francis walked up the path to his house, feeling lighter than air. The twentyfive year old Frenchman had everything he ever wanted in life. A beautiful house, a job doing something he loved, his own restaurants, a five year old son, and a lovely wife. He paused on his way up the path, a lovestruck look crossing his face as he thought of her. Emillise. They had been married for five years, and Francis was head over heels in love. They had met when the French immigrant was only eighteen, when they were both students in the University of Paris. She was from Canada, having come to France for college despite not knowing any French. They had quickly fallen for each other, and moved to Canada when he was twenty, where they got married and Francis finished his education. Soon after the wedding, Emillise gave birth to a baby boy, who they named Matthieu. He missed France terribly, for he had left his family, friends, and country to be with Emillise, but in his opinion it was worth it for love. A couple months earlier, Emillise had confessed that she had always wanted to live in the United States of America, more specifically Philadelphia. Francis, much to Emillise's delight, offered to move there, and here they are.

Francis smelled the fragrant bouquet in his arms, and checked that the box containing the gold and diamond earrings hadn't fallen out of his pocket. He had been eyeing them for weeks, waiting until he had enough money to get them for his wife. He sighed, thinking of how they would bring out the flakes of gold in her chocolate brown eyes.

He unlocked the door, preparing to surprise her, but froze when he heard her voice.

"Allen baby i've told you for like the fifth time that I only need to get the last of my stuff from my bitchy ex's house and the kid. Then i'll be home. I can't wait for you to meet my kid, and i'm sure he will love his new daddy."

He almost dropped the flowers in surprise, thoughts swirling through his head. Bitchy? Ex? Allen? Baby? Home? New daddy? What the hell was going on? His mind wandered to the possibility that she was cheating on him, but he pushed it away. Non. C'est impossible. Francis trusted Emillise completely, and believed that she would never cheat. Francis had been called 'The biggest flirt in all of France' before, but had not as much as looked at another woman or man after he met Emillise.

"Yeah babe I just have to write this little note and then i'm done. Most of my stuff is already home I just have to find the kid he's somewhere in this house. Ugh i'll be so happy when all of this business with my ex is done and i'll be back in your arms." she purred, unaware that Francis was standing behind her. Francis's jaw dropped in shock as he looked at the woman standing in his kitchen. Instead of the Emillise he had left when he went to work, this one was dressed in incredibly tight, revealing clothes, with a rather horrid pixie cut and a pair of pink high heels that Francis nearly gagged at. "Y'know, my ex was probably the ugliest guy you'll ever meet. Long hair like a girl, stupid little stubble on his chin, an accent that made me cringe just talking to him. Before I met him he would seriously flirt with everyone and everything. God, what a piece of shit." Francis dropped the bouquet in shock, the slight rustle catching her attention. "Looks like some of my stuff fell. Gotta go babe love you!" she made a kissy noise into the phone and ended the call, taking her time turning around.

"Francis! Hey love aren't you supposed to be at work? How long have you been standing there darling?" she twittered, panic evident in her voice and eyes.

"Emillise… pourquoi?" Francis rasped out, tears falling from his eyes. "Who iz 'e?"

"He's Allen, and i'm leaving you for him. I'm also taking the kid with me. Good riddance Francis." she sneered, taking a drag of her cigarette.

"Quoi?" Francis asked, tears fading and replaced with anger.

"I said i'm-"

"I DON'T WANT TO 'EAR WHAT YOU 'AVE TO SAY!" Francis screamed, taking a step towards her. "'Ow could you?!" he slipped back into his native language, not caring if she didn't understand or who heard. "I left everything for you! I gave you my heart and soul! I was always faithful! My friends, family, home, all sacrificed for YOU!" He took a deep breath, letting out a laugh that sounded slightly insane, even to his own ears. "And now you want to take Matthieu away. I can promise that if you even step near my son i'll rip you apart. Now leave." he hissed, throwing the box at her feet.

"Francis I never meant for you to find out this way. Calm down and speak English. I promise that you can see the kid once a month." Emillise said, trying to pacify the livid Frenchman.

"Zat doesn't change what you did. You must either be crazy, or extremely stupid to zink zat I would let Matthieu anywhere near you after zis. Now get out of my sight." he spat, taking off his wedding ring and throwing it next to the ring.

"Francis-"

"PARTIR!" (leave)

Francis buried his face in his hands as he finished recounting the events of that day, shaking his head. "'Ow could I 'ave been so stupid?" he sighed.

"I can see one 'piece of shit' in that story and it certainly isn't you." Arthur pointed out, accent thickening with rage.

I'm one second away from storming back there and screaming at her. How dare she break his heart, then come right back and try to take away his son. She truly is a vile woman.

Francis suddenly laughed bitterly, eyes filling with a bit of life once again. "Ze only regret from zat day iz buying ze earrings. I would give zem to you, but you can't wear zem."

Arthur smirked at Francis, raising one eyebrow. "Can't I, now?" he lifted a lock of hair that was in front of his ear, revealing a couple earrings. Francis stared in surprise for a moment, before laughing.

"Mon cher you are just full of surprises!" Francis giggled "Anymore zat I should know about?" He added with a suggestive wiggle of his own brows, his flirtatious personality returning.

"I have a tattoo of a guitar but you'll have to get me drunk to say where. And for your own sanity please don't try to get me drunk. My brothers did once, and are still regretting it to this day."

"Pourquoi?" Francis asked, curious.

Arthur sighed before responding. "Let's just say there was an incident involving stripping, a mini apron, a flying mint green bunny with wings, and confusion over whether i'm catholic or protestant. That's all the details i'm willing to share sober." He stated, offering a hand to Francis to help him up from the couch where they were sitting.

"So what are you?" Francis inquired, accepting the offer and getting up.

Arthur paused before unlocking the door. "God, I still don't know!"

The sound of the two men's laughter drifted down the hall as they walked back to the room hand in hand.