Chapter Three:
Arthur hadn't noticed Alfred had snuck into Arthur's bed again until he was pushed off his bed early the next morning. There was a nice drizzle outside, but no storms, meaning no reason for the American to be in his room, let alone in his bed. He couldn't let the little bugger become accustomed to sleeping with him.
The teen glared at Alfred's back from the floor with no affect on child. He was after all peacefully unconscious, or so he thought before he reached for the boy. Arthur groaned as he attempted to wake him up, but after past experience, gave up quickly. He'd have to carry him into his own room and drop him off there, but when he tried to do, the small blond squirmed away.
"Are you playing with me? My God, Alfred. If you're actually awake, you're going to get it," he placed his fists on his hips as he growled in the dark. However, the boy didn't respond, he only hugged Arthur's pillow even more with a sniffle. Arthur grabbed onto Alfred, not caring about being careful anymore. He couldn't stand coddled children, so he was not going to let Alfred become one. The American needed to learn to ask and if rejected or ignored, the answer would stand as a no. Plain and simple.
Arthur's arms slid under the boy's shoulders and knees, roughly lifting him along with with his pillow Alfred had clung onto. "I thought I locked the bathroom's door? How in the blazes did you manage to get in?" He grunted as he reached for the room's main door. "Oh right, I didn't lock this one... Well no matter! No more sneaking into my room, got that Alfred?" He hissed at the sleeping form in his arms while he nudged Alfred's bedroom door open.
"No, don't leave me!" Alfred mewled. "Please don't go!"
"You have to learn," the older blond shook his head, refusing to give into the smaller one's pleas. Arthur set him under the covers, forgetting his original plan to literally drop him there. "This is your room, stay in here."
"But you can't leave me," tears began to flow out of Alfred's closed eyes. "Please...?"
Arthur wrapped the covers around him, feeling his heart soften. "No, love." His fingers combed through Alfred's honey locks. "Sleep here. You'll be fine."
"I'm alone... Mom... Dad," he cried, tears flowed even faster, squeezing Arthur's pillow even tighter. "Don't leave me here. I miss you. Don't you miss me?"
Arthur's heart tore apart. He was talking to his deceased parents, begging them to return to him. His fingers brushed against the boy's cheeks and whipped his tears away, but more took their place.
"Oh Alfred," the teen was on the verge of tears himself at the sight of the small American.
"Take me with you," Alfred grabbed his hand to hold it closer to him. "Please, I don't want to be away from you. I don't want to be alone. Not here."
Emerald eyes watered.
Did he really want to die so he could be with them? Could a child really think, wish, dream such morbid thoughts? What pain must Alfred be in to call out for them?
"Don't you love me? Mommy! Daddy! Don't! Please! NO!"
"Alfred!" Arthur hugged the boy, crying alongside him. "Shh, i-it's okay. I'm here," he thought of how little comfort that could really be, but there wasn't anything else he could do. "Don't cry, love. E-everything'll be alright. Shh. There, there. I-I promise you, I won't ever leave you, but please stop crying."
He whimpered once more before he kissed Arthur's hand. "Mommy... Daddy... I love you."
Arthur wrapped himself around Alfred as if to protect and comfort him. He didn't know how, but he couldn't leave him alone. The boy's already been through a lot at such an age, yet held himself up with such strength. Alfred Foster Jones was simply an amazing child, Arthur thought.
His fingers continued through his hair-remembering how soothing it was for him as a child-until Alfred's tears dried and they both fell asleep.
Their sleep remained peaceful afterwards. Nightmares morphed into dreams and breaths became steady. Alfred snuggled into Arthur even more, happy to feel his warmth next to him and unaware of the night's fears.
However, those fears slammed into him when he opened his eyes to discover he was in his own room. He jerked up, unaware of Arthur's arm around him, causing the Briton to slam into the wall behind him.
"Artie!" Alfred's metaphorical tail wagged upon discovery of the adolescent.
"You twat!" He groaned. "That hurt. Talk about rude awakening... Oh. Are you alright, Alfred?"
Crystal blue eyes in the morning light peered back at him bewilderedly. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
Arthur stared back at him perplexed as well. If he seriously didn't remember, it'd be best to leave it alone, he thought. He'd rather have a happy, annoying Alfred, than the heart shattering child from last night. The teenager highly doubted he'd be able to retain his composed appearance around a sobbing Alfred and Arthur really didn't want to give the lad any ideas as to ways to get what he wants.
When Arthur gave no answer, Alfred simply dismissed it and attacked him with a loving hug.
Looking down at the pre-teen, Arthur gulped at a realization. Alfred didn't need to use his tears to get what he wanted from him. All he'd have to do, was look up at him with that adorable expression and Arthur would give him the world and more. He could only hope the boy would never discover this.
"Now, now," he pushed him away, but it was futile. "Oi! Get off!"
"But I wanna be with Arite." Alfred burrowed his face into the other's chest.
"'I want tobe with Arthur," the eldest corrected. "Come on, get up. We have classes to attend."
The boy jumped jumped out of bed with excitement. "That's right! I gotta find out who Mattie loves!"
~3~
Alfred burst through James's car door with enough power to fling it off it's hinges.
"Hey! Watch it!"
"Thank you, good man!" The small blond turned to tip his invisible hat and giggle at his attempt at a deep voice. "I'll see you later Jamie!" He ran towards the school until he spotted Matthew and took a sharp turn towards the shy boy.
"Jamie, huh?" James shook his head in amusement at Alfred's nickname. "Sounds a little cute. I wonder if I can get any girl to call me that... HOLY FUCK! IS HE OKAY?!" James jumped a foot in his seat as he witnessed Alfred slam into the other. He waited until the boys stood from the collision before he drove off, deeming them unharmed.
"Oww," Matthew rubbed the back of his head where it met with the ground below him. He had thought the lovely green grass looked fluffy and soft, but he was sadly mistaken. "That hurt, Alfred. Why'd you even attack me?"
"Well good morning to you too," he pouted as he dusted himself off and spotting a few grass stains. Mrs. Kirkland surely wouldn't be as angry as Arthur, but Alfred slightly looked forward to witnessing the boy's hysterics. "Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed..."
They made their way towards the building, getting curious glances from other students, teachers, and a few parents.
"No," the violet eyed boy grimaced when he found a grass stain on his polar bear book bag. He really hoped Francis could remove the stain, and if not- well, he'd rather not think about it. "I awoke on the right side of the bed, it's just some moron tackled me when he clearly was headed straight for the school."
Alfred chuckled and turned to his friend. "That's what friends are for!"
Friends.
Matthew's eyes widened then turned to face his American friend. "Really? We're friends?" It was Alfred's second day at school, but Matt was sure Al didn't intend to be with him for long. He received so much attention yesterday, he just assumed Al would bounce around to find a group to befriend. Matthew thought he had nothing to offer the energetic boy. He was alone, drew boring stuff according to a few of their classmates, and spoke an "icky" second language. Why children were so cruel about minuscule things went over the tiny blond's head.
However, unlike the rest of the students, the American didn't care about any of Matthew's "faults." He loved his new best friend's artistic skills, begging to be taught; his second language was just as cool as the little spanish he had learned, and as Alfred put it: Matthew was simply waiting to meet him, he wasn't really alone. They were meant to become an dynamic duo, hero and sidekick, like Batman and Robin, Captain America and Bucky, the Lone Ranger and Tonto, and-
"Emerson and Thoreau!" Mattie inputted.
"Wah?" Alfred's jaw slackened in confusion.
They walked up the steps into their school and to their classroom while Matthew explained to the American who the duo were. "You know American writers from late 1800s...? You're American! You should know this!" He blushed under Alfred's scrutiny.
"Uh, no way bro," he shook his honey locks of hair rapidly. "How do you know then?"
"Eh?" Violet eyes were brimmed panic. "Well, ah, that's a touchy subject..."
"Dude, you were the one to bring up the dead fogeys," they sat in their seats as their classmates began to file in as well. "But if you don't wanna talk 'bout it, then we won't! No problem-o! Now to the main event!" Alfred grinned wickedly, exposing a missing molar. "Last time I'ma gonna be nice about it. So who do you like Mattie?"
This attracted many of their classmates attention. A few turned around to stare expectantly at the two friends, while a few other discreetly tried to listen. Gossip, at whatever age, was interesting no matter who it came from.
"Oh?" A brunette with chocolate eyes smiled at Matthew. "Mattie likes someone? Is she in our class?"
He quickly shook his blond locks and tightened his lips into a painful line.
"Is she in Mrs. Jade's class?"
Matthew's hair continued to sway.
"Mr. Ross's?"
Violet eyes disappeared between lids; he couldn't believe this was happening to him. Soon enough, all of the girls and two other boys were throwing questions at the Canadian.
"No, no, no, no, no." He began to chant to every question until, Ivan, one of the boys who had joined the interrogation, became a lot warmer than all the others.
"Do you like a boy?"
It was like a bomb detonated in the classroom. Everyone began to talk at once and climbed over one another to get to the shy boy to ask if this was true.
Pushed out of the way, Alfred stood there stunned and slightly annoyed. This was his mission after all, not theirs and the look on his friend's face settled it all. So being the great hero that he was, he crawled underneath his peers to get to the terrified boy. He squirmed himself upright before covering Matthew's ears and yelled from the top of his voice.
"HEY!"
The room was silenced.
Most were simply in shock at how loud the new student could be, but the rest who were closest to him were clutching at their ears, reluctant to see if they were bleeding from the shout they received. With the open opportunity, Alfred cleared his voice. "If Mattie wants to share his love life with you, he can, but I asked first!"
Unfortunately no one was able to get any answers from Matthew for their teacher had walked into the room, ready to begin class. After shortly questioning herself as to why everyone had crowed around the North Americans, she began with a morning activity of dividing off the students into groups of five to read a chapter of their assigned reading. She knew from having Alfred only for a day that the boy would not settle down to read unless someone was right beside him, pushing him to continue. He was an intelligent boy who could read well, but he simply had no motivation to pick up a book. So the boy won this round for now and their teacher didn't mess with him that morning.
Happy that he wouldn't have to drudge through the book alone, the American led his group-that consisted of Matthew, Ivan, Elizaveta, and that girl he now remembered as Michelle- to the corner where the recess balls were kept. The boys were ready to forget the incident that occurred a few minutes ago, but the girls were not. As soon as Alfred found a ball to balance on and Matthew became comfortable against the wall, Elizaveta and Michelle pounced on the innocent boy. Alfred was knocked off his ball while Ivan was almost stepped on all in favor for the smallest blond.
They nestled on either side of him, but didn't say anything. Instead they smiled knowingly at each other, then lovingly at him before they opened their books to the fifth chapter.
"What the heck was that?" Alfred glared at the girls over his rubber ball.
"Look what you did to my scarf," Ivan sniffled while he examined the beloved, now dirty muffler. It sported a shoe print and lost some of its sunflower-y smell he had loved so much.
"Sorry, Ivan," the light brunette patted his hand. "I'll get you a real sunflower from my mama's garden. Now lets get to business, follow along Alfred."
Elizaveta took a deep breath before plunging into the text. She could read fast and smoothly, startling Alfred with his still closed book. He could barely keep up and didn't notice that the chapter ended too soon for his liking. The speed reader closed her book, ignoring the American's glare, and turned to Matthew once more.
The Canadian boy tensed up and couldn't even answer her. His only giveaway was the steadily increasing blush across his face with each correct answer. Soon, he was as read as Alfred's Superman school bag. All the girls needed from him were the names of the older boys that Matthew was crushing on. Reciting names only went so far for the girls, there were so many possibilities and the boy still couldn't speak. Without his precious stuffed polar bear, Matthew could only grip his book as protection.
Luckily, their teacher walked up to the group and frowned at the girls practically on top of the defenseless boy. "Are you finished reading?"
In time with each other, they nodded.
"Oh? What did you learn from this, Ivan?" She placed her hands on her hips as she looked at the biggest boy.
"I get a sunflower tomorrow!" Ivan happily held his scarf up at his teacher and explained what had happened to it.
"That's nice dear, but I was talking about the chapter you read," her eyes darted towards the new student. "Alfred?"
"Uh... That help sometimes comes from where you least expect it?" The boy looked at his group for help, but his best friend was still too terrified to talk. After a few more- what he assumed were correct by the way she kept asking more questions- answers, she finally gave her approval and walked off to a different group who was still reading.
Once out of earshot, the girls returned to their infatuation. "Do we know them?"
Matthew hid his face.
"Are they Francis's age?"
He dropped his head in between his knees.
"Is it Francis?" Alfred joined in as he cocked his head to the right. It all added up he supposed, and he only really asked because he was the only other big kid he knew other than Artie- "And Artie?!"
"Don' tell them!" The smaller boy lunged forward. "I know they're together, but I can't help it! I don't want to ruin it either." Tear welled up in his eyes, affecting the girls as well.
Alfred was confused. Weren't Mattie and Francis siblings? Oh right, Mattie's adopted. "But he's like your brother," he thought out loud.
"Francis says 'amour conquers all.'"
~3~
Francis was mad. Positively seething. "How dare zhe claim zhe wantz 'im back!? Zhe gave him up! What part of close adoption doez zhe not underztand after 'er eight yearz of univerzity?! I am not giving 'im up and neizer iz mère." He had paced around the classroom for fifteen minutes before spilling out what was worrying him, then fell into Arthur's supportive arms. He'd make such a great father, Francis thought as he reveled in the Briton's hold as he listened to his dilemma. The French teen just wanted to forget all his troubles when Arthur kissed the top of his head and began to play with his long hair.
"Matthew's mum? I thought he already knew of her?"
"'E doez," he looked up into confused emerald eyes. "Mon Mathieu iz a brilliant little boy and amazing detective. It waz only last year 'e waz able to track 'er down and get everyzing we knew about her. And after we told 'im everyzing and nozing but the truz, we watched 'is little 'eart break. 'Is mère didn't want 'im and choze her zchooling razer zen raizing 'er own zon. Non, don't give me zat look, mon lapin. Mère met her and told me 'er family waz willing to take Mathieu in, but she didn't want 'im.
"Je déteste cette femme." (I hate that woman.)
Seeing such emotion from his boyfriend was quite shocking, but he was still quite baffled. "So you're going to Ottawa to confront her?"
"To discuzz wiz 'er and 'er lawyer," his nod made his curls bounce. "We cannot give 'im up wiz out a fight. Zo zat iz why I am azking if your family could take care of 'im while we're away. I don't want 'im anywhere near zat woman."
Arthur hummed in agreement. "He's always welcome at our place. I'm sure Alfred will love to have him over the whole week so they can play nonstop. I sure hope Matthew doesn't mind, although. He's bound to become annoyed of the little American."
Francis winced. "American. Mathieu'z birth mère went to zchool thoze eight yearz to get 'er Mazter'z Degree in American Literature. 'E waz obzezzed with American clazzics when 'e found out. It broke 'is 'eart while 'e read zem, but read zem 'e did az to 'ave zome link to 'er."
"Don't worry," Arthur kissed Francis as to shut him up and calm him down. "I'm sure you will win the case if it comes down to it. Just give the bitch a slap for me before you leave for abandoning such a precious angel."
"Oui, 'e iz an angel, izn't 'e? Je toujours aimerai mon petit ange." (I will always love my little angel.)
DONE! I have saved enough money for my plane ticket to England so I can study abroad for a semester next year (if all goes well), I have finished packing so I can go back to my university, finished baking, and finished this chapter! Woo! I am pumped I could finish all my other fanfic chapters! ... But I'm slightly delirious from lack of sleep... so I'll sleep instead.
My apologies for my horrid French accent writing and probably just as bad French (I used a translator). I've never had to write Francis a tirade and probably confused you. So in short: Francis is pissed that Matthew's mother wants him back even though she gave him up for adoption and he and his mother are going to Canada to settle things, hopefully. She gave him up because she didn't want any distractions between her education and career in American Literature. When Matt found out about her career he began to read American authors and that's where he came up with Emerson and Thoreau. Mattie is super smart! But we all knew that. Sorries for such a depressing chapter as well.
I'll update my other stories today or tomorrow depending on how fast I can settle into my new dorm and all that jazz. Thank you for reading! Good night!
