Hey ya'll! This chapter took a while, but there's like...lots of words and stuff in it. totally. Getting close to the end! Lots of excitement! Also, this whole scene makes Aunt Sarah seem REALLY crazy when the dogs are replaces with humans...:'D As always I loooove all watchers, reviewers etc. you give me warm fuzzies inside!
Two figures stood hesitantly at the intricate wrought iron gate, craning their necks to try to get a look behind the house. It was a cloudy, gloomy evening and seemed to fit the mood perfectly. Finally one of them huffed, puffing his chest up in pride before looking at the other.
"Courage, lass, courage!" The redhead said to his companion.
"But Ah've never even considered matrimony!" The pretty blonde replied, following with concern as her braver friend began walking towards the back yard.
"Nor I," The man growled out. "But no matter which of us he accepts, we'll always be the best of friends." He paused once the round gazebo was in sight. "Now remember, not a word aboot his unfortunate experiences. You dun't want to hurt his feelings." The girl nodded. Cautiously they approached the small shelter, just able to see a slumped form sitting on its outer edge. A thin chain led from its wrist up to the wood railing surrounding the outside.
"Laddie?"
"M-Miss Mattie?"
"Please," came a very soft voice. "I don't want to see anybody."
"Now, now laddie, dunnit feel that way aboot it." Scottie said, trying to sound encouraging.
"Of course not Miss Mattie." Annie said gently "Why, some of the finest people Ah ever tracked down were jailbirds."
"Quiet you great loony!" Scottie hissed, shooing her away from the entrance, causing her to bump her head in surprise. "Uh, please laddie, we've come with a proposition for helpin' ya." Matthew looked up, looking nothing short of completely dejected. It was not hard to tell he had finished a long round of crying, but now he simply looked empty and very, very tired.
"Help me?" he said quietly "What do you mean?"
"Well, now, you see laddie, neither of us might be a first choice.."
"But we're in the prime of life!"
"Awe, and we've both got very comfortable homes."
"That's right. Where we know ya'll be welcomed and appreciated, Miss Mattie."
"So to come directly to the point…" The Scotsman tried, clearing his throat.
"If you could..um, find it possible to….to um…um…" Matthew gave a small watery smile, knowing he had to speak up to end the awkwardness of his two friends.
"You're both very kind and I do appreciate it, but-"
"Oh Pigeon!" All three figures froze as a new voice floated its way through the air. "Mathieu!" it called again, causing a trio of eyes to turn to the new visitor who was sauntering his way in through a loose board in the fence. "Oh, bonjour. How are things in the yacht club?" Francis said, spotting Matthew's two friends, who instantly turned their backs on him in a show of anger. The blond raised his eyebrow slightly, deciding to ignore their display. "I picked up a little something for you, Pige." He continued, holding up a small bag with the word "Vargas" printed across the front, giving a winning smile. Instead of a sweet smile and thanks like he was expecting all the Frenchman received was a frown followed by a turn of the head. Francis pulled back ever so slightly.
"It looks like I am in the doghouse.." He murmured.
"If this person in bothering you Miss Mattie.." Annabel said with a tone of warning.
"We'll gladly throw the rascal out!" Scottie snapped, turning with a death glare.
"That won't be necessary. Thank you." Matthew said coolly.
"Very well." Annie said with a humpf, turning to leave. Scottie was about to follow, but seemed to change his mind, approaching the blond challengingly.
"You….you mongrel!" He barked, making the man back up from the close proximity. Seeming to be satisfied the Scotsman turned his back and stomped out of the yard, leaving the two blonds alone. Francis watched them go before turning to Matthew, sitting on the step below him and looking up innocently. The younger still refused to look at him.
"Come now, Pige. It wasn't my fault." He begged, looking up. Matthew responded by getting up and walking as far as he could, followed by a rather desperate Frenchman.
"I though you were right behind me the whole time, honestly." He tried, but the boy simply walked away again, back into the gazebo. Francis followed, still trying. "When I heard that they had taken you to the Pound-"
"Oh, don't even mention that terrible place!" Matthew exclaimed, getting teary eyed. "I-I was so embarrassed and frightened…."
"Oh, now, now, now…" Francis cooed, looking at him with concern. "Who could ever harm a cute little trick like you?"
"Trick?" Matthew hiccupped. Suddenly he was staring right at Francis, eyes blazing. "Trick? That reminds me, who is Trixie?"
"Trixie?" Francis repeated, face falling to a look of complete surprise.
"And Lulu? And Fifi? And Rosita Chiquita…whatever her name is?"
"Ch-chiquita? Oh, oh yes well I-"
"As far as I'm concerned," Matthew said, voice rising. "You needn't worry about your old heel!"
"My heel?" Francis said weekly, backing up.
"I don't need you to shelter and protect me!"
"Yes, but-but-"
"If you grow careless don't blame me. And I hope the Cossacks do pick you up! Goodbye, and take that with you!" He pointed to the bag of food he had brought before turning and all but running back into his shelter. Soft sobbing could be heard coming out of it almost instantly. Francis stood quietly for a moment before turning, head hung slightly, and walking slowly away. He paused for a second looking back forlornly before walking through the broken plank in the fence. Matthew started as he heard it bang back into place, only to lay his head back in his arms sniffing and giving an occasional shuttering breath as the tears flowed freely. The darkness around him was intensifying by the second, being accompanied by rolling thunder in the distance. For a while that was the only sound he could hear besides his own ragged breathing until quite suddenly the sharp clack of the broken plank echoed through the yard again. His head shot up this time, turning sharply towards the opening of the gazebo. He stood up, quickly wiping the dried salt water off his cheeks. Walking cautiously he peeked into the backyard, eyes trying to focus. At first there was nothing, but as he a looked harder there was a sudden flash of movement, very close to him. Gasping he retreated quickly back into his shelter, giving a glance towards the house. Whoever that was in their back yard was someone he had never seen before in his life, and he knew he had to let the other people in the house know, as he was somewhat…incapacitated at the moment. Taking a deep breath he went as close to the house as his chain would let him.
"Aunt Sara-!" the shout choked off as something cold pressed against his throat. He felt a strong hand grab his wrist and wrench his arm up as far as it could go. Matthew gasped, eyes growing. It didn't take him long to realize it was a blade pressed up against his skin.
"Listen closely." A thick gruff voice breathed in his ear. "You're going to shut the hell up, understand? I've been planning on hitting your pretty little house for way too damn long for it to be ruined by the resident princess." A quick, painful jerk of Matthew's arm was added for emphasis. "Now you stay here and be nice and quiet while I go get all those pretty things your mummy and daddy have, or I'm gunna make you wish you did." Drawing the blade away from the boy's throat he tossed him to the ground before quickly and skillfully making his way to the second floor by way of climbing and hopping into the first window he saw. Right into the baby's room. Matthew struggled to get up, holding his neck, feeling the paper thin cut across it. Looking back up towards the house he knew there was no way he would do as that criminal had told him, he would never let anyone defile the house his parents had worked so hard to earn! Running towards the house until he was stopped short by the restraint on his wrist he gathered up his courage once again.
"Aunt Sarah! Aunt Sarah! Wake up! Aunt Sarah, Gilbert, Yong Soo!" He yelled as loudly as his could. To his great relief a light switched on immediately, followed by the window all but being thrown open. Aunt Sarah's face poked out, a cross expression spread on her features.
"Stop that racket! Quiet now!" She yelled.
"But Aunt Sarah-!"
"Quiet!" She repeated, shoving earplugs in before slamming the window shut and turning off the light.
"No!" Matthew called out in despair, tugging on his chain. He bit down on his lip harshly to keep the tears away. He had cried enough for one night. He almost recoiled when he failed to hold back a dry sob.
"What's wrong Mathieu?" The boy nearly hurt himself turning his neck so quickly, and was met with a pair of deep blue eyes filled with concern.
"F-Francis?" He whispered. "How did you…w-why did you…"
"I heard your yelling." He explained quickly. "And I could not ignore it."
"T-there's a burglar…" Was all Matthew managed to say.
"Where?"
"Upstairs. In the baby's room."
"How do I get in?"
"There's a key." The boy said without hesitation. "Hidden in the flowers next to the door." Francis nodded and was off like a shot, running to the front door with purpose. He found the key quickly and within moments was in the house. He walked quietly, making his way up the stairs. He saw a door that was slightly ajar and sneakily peeked into it. There was a man in there, short but heavily built. His thick hands were currently wrapped around a silver mirror as he examined it greedily.
"I would put that down if I were you." Francis said in a low voice, making his presence known. The robber all but jumped out of his skin, whipping around and pulling out his knife in one quick motion.
"So you're going to stop me then?" He sneered. "What, want the loot for yourself?" Francis' eyes narrowed as he pulled out his switchblade, flicking it open with a quick movement of the wrist. The two fell silent then, circling each other with anticipation. In an instant they crashed together, all secrecy and quite broken as they flung their full strength against one another slashing and crashing into each other and anything else solid in the room. With a great thud they fell to the ground, having tripped over the fine linens the thief had been trying to take. The rolled frantically, a tangle of limbs, both trying to get the advantage while avoiding the sharp edges of each other's weapons. With a grunt the shorter man threw his weight onto Francis' chest, winding him long enough to try to bring his blade down towards his face. The blond managed to grab his wrist in time to stop the blade, struggling for a moment before managing to kick the other man off of him. He lunged forward, tackling the criminal full force in the stomach, trying to punch him anywhere that would leave him dazed. With a gasp his switchblade fell to the floor as a fresh slash blossomed across his palm, gritting his teeth Francis lashed out as quickly as the lightning that was flashing outside the window, twisting the mans wrist and forcing him to drop his weapon as well.
Matthew tugged at his restraint desperately, not caring that the now torrential rain was soaking him to the skin. He simply could not stand by as Francis risked his life to save his home and baby brother from harm, he wouldn't! With a final tug a link in the chain snapped, sending him tumbling down onto the wet stepping stones beneath. Scrambling up he ran for the door as fast as he could, hoping he wouldn't be too late.
The thief clawed his way up managing to grab one of the knives in the process, keeping Francis at bay with a lucky kick to the jaw. He grabbed the cradle and hovered over it menacingly just in time to hear a gasp from the doorway. He turned to see Matthew standing there, frozen, eyes darting between him and where the baby slept. The thief gave a crooked smile, only to have it wiped off his face by a French fist. Francis managed to knock him away from the baby forcefully, causing the cradle to teeter and fall with a crash. Instantly the room began to echo with the baby's cries as Matthew sprinted over to see if he was alright. Picking him up gently he examined the little boy, making sure there were no cuts or scrapes. He seemed fine and there were other concerns at the moment. Putting him down as carefully as he could Matthew turned just in time to see the two fighting men slam into the window before falling behind the curtain. There was a flurry of movement, knocking over the bedside table and chair next to the fight, until finally with an earsplitting crash of thunder the entire curtain fell and the movement stopped. Matthew's breath froze in his lungs as a few heartbreaking seconds dragged by until finally the victor struggled out of the tangle of fabric on the floor, limping but seeming to not be seriously injured.
"Francis!" Matthew cried, running over and throwing his arms around him desperately. "T-thank god you're alright! I was so…oh t-thank you…I.."
"Shh," the older said, running his hands gently over the boy's golden locks. "It is alright, everything is alright…" Matthew sniffed, drawing back slightly for a moment, eyes shining with worried tears. With a sudden movement he cupped the Frenchman's face and brought his lips to his own, waiting several blissful moments before pulling back and looking away with a blush. Francis' surprised look quickly changed to a simple smile, as he brought his lips to the boy's ear and pulled him closer.
"Mathieu?"
"Yes?"
"Je t'aime." Matthew gave a small gasp, leaning his head back to look up into blue eyes.
"Merciful heavens!" Their peace was quickly shattered by a high pitched shriek. Aunt Sarah had run into the room, her pink frilly nightgown in its full glory, and a shotgun under one arm. She quickly ran up to the cradle, picking up the still crying baby with the arm that was not holding a gun. "Oh you poor little darling. Now, now, now, now. Thank goodness you weren't harmed!" Matthew took Francis' hand and gave it a light squeeze, looking up at him admiringly.
"You vicious brutes!" Matthew recoiled as the barrel of the shotgun was suddenly pointed directly at Francis' face, Aunt Sarah on the other side of it, face full of fury. "Back, back, get back!" She yelled, pushing the man back with ever step. "Get back!" She said with a final step, backing him into a closet. She slammed the door and locked it, snapping Matthew out of his shock. "Police, police, I'll call the police!"
"No, Aunt Sarah! There's been a mistake; please you have to-"Matthew's pleas were cut short as he found himself staring down the barrel of the same gun.
"You! Quiet now!"
"What's going on?" A very annoyed and sleepy voice droned.
"Gilbert! Yong Soo! Take this delinquent fraternizer to the cellar and lock him up!" Aunt Sarah commanded shrilly. "While I call the police!"
"Can do Kesesese!" Came a now rather enthusiastic response. Matthew felt two sets of arms wrap around his own and tug as he kept trying to tell them the truth.
"I-it wasn't him, you have to believe me, just look behind the curtai-" He was cut off as a particularly violent tug nearly brought him tumbling down the stairs. He continued fighting tooth and nail as the two boys dragged him and threw him in the cellar, closing and bolting the door behind them. He continued pounding on the wooden doors in desperation, not willing to give up.
"Aunt Sarah, Aunt Sarah, please listen!" But it was too late; she was already on the phone, speaking to a rather intimidated officer.
"I don't care if they are alone there, young man, I insist you send them to come pick him up. Immediately!"