Welcome to Paradise
Matthew (Canada) and Francis (France)
Fear crept in as the lights dimmed around him. Francis felt a chill hug his body and he shivered. Something bad was going to happen …. The French man was just about to shake off the feeling when his bedroom door flew open. Matthew appeared, breathing frantically and trying to suppress the sobs that easily escaped him. Francis ran to him immediately and took the trembling boy into his arms. Matthew tilted his head back, violet eyes rimmed red and puffy.
"Quel est le problème, Mattie?" Francis wiped away the tears with his thumb.
"Ku-Kuma-Kuma-Kumajiro isn't- he isn't- he won't stop crying! I-I-I think he- I think he-" Matthew wasn't able to continue, he started crying harder.
It was time to put on a brave front, Francis decided. Fuck the bear! His Mattie needed him, and if that meant jumping head first into a battle with the ferocious creature, so be it! He pressed a kiss against Matthew's forehead.
"Come, Mattie. Show me what is wrong."
The fragile Canadian nodded nonchalantly and whispered, "Merci, papa. I love you."
"I love you, too, Mattie."
He then took Francis' hand in his own and brought him into the wine cellar. Francis was a bit taken aback by that, not sure why Kuma-what's-it's-name would be in the there but shrugged off the thought.
There was a muffled howl coming from the back of the small room, Francis knew it was the bear. It sounded like it was in pain; when it came into view he could see puddle of liquid growing in length and width underneath it. Francis froze in disgust. Matthew tugged on the sleeve of the man's shirt.
"H-hurry, papa there is no time! He's in pain!"
The bear's head rose slightly and it looked at Francis. It smiled … if bears could smile. If they could that's what it did, but it looked weak and forced. A jolt of sympathy zipped through Francis and he took another step. Another. Another. Until he was stooping next to the small mammal and stroking its fur.
"Oh, my … are you hurt?" he asked it.
Matthew dropped down next to them and hugged the bear. It glanced at him.
"Who?" the words came out like a choked breath and Francis saw Matthew's arm tighten.
"C-C-Cana-Canada." He smiled a smile so sad Francis felt his own eyes becoming moist. "Y-you're g-going to- to be okay, Kumajiro. Papa F-Franny i-is going to f-fix you." He dropped his head into the fur on its back, and said, "I-I promise."
And then he started crying again, his body jerked violently. It was too much for Francis to take. He tried to pull Matthew off, the boy fought back, screaming for him to let go but Francis hauled him back up the stairs, put him down on the main floor and locked the door behind him. Leaving him and the bear alone.
As Francis walked back to the mammal he heard Matthew punching and kicking the door, he hoped it would hold. Francis didn't want to have to see him like that again.
"Tell me what is the matter," he ordered the bear, knowing it would reply.
"My tummy hurts," it mumbled.
"Can I put you on your back?" Francis asked; the bear bobbed its head up and down. Francis flipped it onto its back, the stomach was bloated. Too much fish. He chuckled at the thought but the bear's pained expression brought his amusement to an abrupt halt.
"Do you know how I can help you?"
Matthew's banging grew louder and Francis had to fight the urge to run back and open the door.
"Cut it," the bear stated with its paw on its stomach.
The colour in Francis' face drained. "Non, non," he said with his hands up. "I-I cannot do that."
"P-please …."
It was begging? Francis put his hands up to his face and pulled them away, looking up as he did so. Okay! He would do it. For Mattie. He got up and walked around to one of the smaller shelves. A butchers knife was pushed against the wall; the French man got on his toes and reached for it. His finger touched something cold and he exhaled, curling his fingers around the knife.
"Pour Mattie," he reminded himself aloud.
Francis walked back to the bear, clutching the blade in a trembling hand. He got onto his knees; the knife hovered over the stomach. His hand lowered, the knife touched skin and Francis added pressure. The tip broke through and the bear screeched.
"KUMAJIRO!" Matthew wailed from behind the door.
Francis dug the knife in deeper and trailed it down the stomach, ending the incision right above its waist.
"T-take them out," the bear breathed.
"Take what out?"
"C-cubs … take the … cubs … out." Its head lolled to the side.
Cubs? But- but wasn't the bear a boy? It had a boy part. What cubs?
Francis peeked into the open gash, something inside was squirming. No, not something. Somethings. His hand entered and he touched one of the things. It moved! He yanked his hand back and the bear whimpered. Francis apologized and – with more bravery than he thought he could muster up – pulled at the thing until part of it was poking out.
…
…
…
…
Francis narrowed his eyes.
…
…
…
…
It had a human foot? He put another hand in and pulled it out further.
…
…
…
…
The head of a bear and a human body.
Francis, disturbed as he was, continued retrieving the mutant babies one by one and was slowly removing the fifth. Just like the others, he had it by its foot but this time the foot was covered in fur and icky baby slime. He almost sang with relief, in fact, he was opening his mouth to do so when he caught hold of the head.
…
…
…
The head was human, more human than anything a bear could produce. And … and it was like looking into a mirror. He was looking at himself in the form of a freakish mutant human bear baby.
"Welcome to parenthood," the bear said deviously.
-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-
Matthew charged into Francis' room, pushing the door open a bit too hard. It ricocheted off the wall and slugged him square in the nose. He squealed and pushed it open with a little less force. Francis was screaming in his sleep, he looked like he was trying to push something away. Matthew, still trying to numb the pain in his throbbing nose, frowned and walked over to the bed. He shook the man's shoulder. Francis slapped him in the face and knocked Matthew onto the floor.
"Maple! Francis wake up!" Matthew called from the floor. The thought of attempting to shake him awake again shook him.
Francis' arms fell back to his sides and his eyes opened. He turned to face Matthew and the boy pursed his lips, staring back.
"You are not crying," Francis stated matter-of-factly.
Matthew shook his head. "Should I be?" He cocked his head to the side.
Francis almost couldn't believe it; it was just a nightmare. A terrifying but fake nightmare. "No you should not."
"Um … alright." He scratched the back of his head. "I-I made breakfast. I'm really sorry about yesterday and … what Kumajiro … did."
"N-no. It's fine."
"Okay … come into the kitchen when you're ready."
"Yes, of course."
Matthew got back onto his feet and started for the door but Francis wasn't finished.
"Mattie is your bear out there?"
The boy look over his shoulder, shook his head and said, "He's still sleeping." and continued walking but-
"Mattie?"
"Yes?" He answered, a bit annoyed.
"Can you call me papa today?" The older man almost looked sad. "Like old times."
Matthew blushed and stood silently. He bit the corner of his lip. "No." With that he left.
-_- Boy Does Life Suck. As Our Precious Matthew Would Say: FML -_-
Francis sat at the table, devouring the pancakes as though he had never had them before. He shovelled the last one into his mouth and swallowed. He nudged the plate toward Matthew who was still hard at work making more flapjacks. The boy looked at him in shock.
"What the heck happened to them?" he asked taking the plate and setting it next to the stove.
"I ate them of course! Mattie those taste very delicious! You must tell me, what they are?"
"Um … pancakes." Matthew told him.
"Mon garçon! I have never had food so good!" He beamed.
"Francis?"
"Oui?"
"You have pancakes every time you visit me." Matthew wanted to slap him. Every single bloody time the man had his pancakes he had the same reaction. The 'OMG I have never had these before' reaction. It was pissing him off.
"Non! Cela n'est pas possible! I did not have any when we were in your home two days ago!" How dare Matthew say that he had done such a thing! Surely he would remember the taste if these treats called pancakes.
"That's because you dragged me out of my house before I could," Matthew snuffed, turning away from the stove to glare at Francis.
"Well next time do not let me catch you drinking vodka."
Matthew grumbled something under his breath and went back to his pancake. He flipped it and realized he had an unanswered question.
"Francis why did you come and visit me anyways?" he asked watching the pancake sizzle.
"I just wanted to see if you were okay. I assumed you may have needed some support since the Olympics happened only a few months ago and the G20 Summit is coming up and I am sure you have much more to face. I know how it feels to become overwhelmed by it all, so I just wanted to check on you."
"Oh."
Matthew didn't except that answer. He thought Francis was going to say something about needing to send over immigrants or whatever, not caring. But what would make him not care? As Francis declared earlier on in the trip: Matthew used to be his son.
The guilt flooded over him like a rushing wave. He flipped a pancake onto Francis' plate and handed it to him.
"Merci, Mattie," Francis said.
"No problem … papa."
Francis knew Matthew hadn't meant for Francis to hear the last word but he did. He kept his smile to himself and left Matthew to tend to breakfast.
Breakfast ended with Francis moping over not getting anymore pancakes and Matthew scolding his elder for causing him so much trouble and abusing his kindness. Though Francis did not see it that way. If Matthew hadn't intended on being used he should have not stepped into the kitchen and started cooking.
The French man took his plate to the sink and dropped it in. It landed with a loud crack and Matthew jumped.
"Mattie!" He chirped. "Guess what we're doing tonight?"
Matthew arched his eyebrows and Francis clapped his hands excitedly.
"We're going to eat and party and meet women and have sex!"
"Oh, no we are not!" He stomped his foot to try and look intimidating but Francis burst out in laughter. Using Matthew's shoulder to keep him from falling over. "I-I'm serious!"
"Oh, my!" Francis gasped for air. "You are so cute!"
Matthew's face turned deep red, "Sh-shut up!"
"Come on now. If I let you stay inside I may as well have left you at home." He ruffled the boy's hair playfully.
Francis' looked Matthew over and smiled. "We are going to go together but you are not going dressed like that. I cannot have you walking around in polar bear," he shuddered. "pyjamas."
Francis excused himself from the kitchen and turned to go into the backyard. Leaving Matthew behind. Matthew punched the counter. Feeling no pain but all fury.
"I hate you! You stupid old snail eating retard!"
END OF PART iv (part 1)
Okay so wow part 1 of part 4 is done! Ya-hes! Only two or three more chapters left. Lol, I think I over shot my chapter guess. But it kinda sucks, every time I post one of these things it comes out in a totally twisted format so I keep changing it -_- whatever. Thanks for reading this dude(tte)s! OvO (OWL XD)
Quel est le problème – what is the problem
Merci, papa – Thank you, father/dad
Non – No
Pour – For
Mon garcon – My boy
Oui – yes
Cela n'est pas possible – That is not possible