Beyond help part 2

With a seductive sway of his hips, a flick of his wrist, a lollipop in hand, he walks down the hall. A school issued school uniform hugs him in all the right places, something that shouldn't be possible for these crummy plaid school uniforms. Hungry eyes trailed down his body, looking anywhere but his shining purple eyes. Those eyes though, trailed around looking at all those who did not know he was looking. Intelligence gleamed behind those soft eyes. But unfortunately the others did not perceive him this way.

A heckling of laughter from some anonymous voice shouts out from the crowd "hey whore! mind blowing me in the middle of the hallway?" earning plenty of snickers from those around him. Stray hands found their way to his bottom, smacking him or squeezing him. The boy being squeezed did nothing to stop the intruders, but in fact encouraged it with sly glances and raised eyebrow.

Of course there were those who did a bit less than admire him. Those who sneered, whispered sharp words, threw harsh glances his way all the way their words followed him

"he's going to hell" "what a fucking slut" "he just lets anyone grope him" "I hear he's even fucked straight men" "I heard he fucked a goat once" "I heard a goat fucked him"

The rumors only got stranger and stranger until they spiraled in to the truly unbelievable.

Class was what one could call uneventful, but that of course depended on who was saying it. For Matthew, it was uneventful. Nothing important happened. Sure there were the snickers and snide remarks and penetrating gazes from those who wanted him, and the hateful whispers from those who didn't. Those who quoted the bible around him, just to remind him how low he was. That legally, he wasn't so much as allowed to touch one of the holy things. One required parents to do such holy things. Nowadays, laws were biased. Orphans got special treatment in the medical system, and not good special treatment. Those who didn't depend on the under funded foster program to pay for their medical fees always got in first. A few words from the parents always got them in first. It was one of the MANY reasons the expected life span for blanks was years below that of regular children.

Blank. That's what he was. As much as his foster parents at the over crowded foster home told him not to call himself that, he knew it was true. While all others were Yao Wang, Alfred Kirkland, Kiku Wang, Ivan Braginski, he was just plain Matthew. As if blending in wasn't hard enough.

There were many other things you could call Matthew. Slut being one of the most common ones. But whore, blank, stupid, retard, and orphan followed him along as well. Through the halls, in the classroom, between barely open lips through hushed whispers they thought he couldn't hear. Another reason orphans didn't love long. suicide.

That Matthew's plan at least. Wait until he graduated, and jump off the rooftop for all to see. He almost laughed when he knew no one would care. Sure they would gawk and stare at his mutilated body from jumping from the ninth story of his over crowded school, But no one would care at a person level. In the end he would just be thrown in another blank grave, along with all the other orphans who jumped at the end of year. There were always at least a few. The numbers were rising steadily throughout the years, last year alone had 14 jumpers after graduation. Not all of them were grads.

Matthew planned to join the throngs of jumpers at the end of this year. Take the final leap and earn the only true freedom a boy like him could earn. What could he even do after? No college would accept a blank. Not only that, but he didn't want to face the hordes of people in the receiving of name ceremony.

The receiving of name ceremony was possibly the most important event in anyone's life. After they graduated, the whole school gathered in the auditorium with their mothers and fathers. One by one, the grads came onto the stage and were given the most important thing they could ever have. Their own last name. Up until you were 18, you held the last name of your parents (Wang, Braginski, Kirkland) but at the receiving of name ceremony you received your own personal last name. One that was for you yourself and no one else, except for the one you married if they took your name. It was considered a great honor to stand amongst your fellow students and be given a last name that suited you in every way. It was important, almost more important than graduating. The process was specialized. It looked at every aspect of your personality, your friends, your family, your possible careers, everything.

But for those without parents, orphans with no mother or father to grant them the ultimate honor, it was humiliating. Watching each and every student, peer, bully, asshole, and failing student walk up and receive their very own last name and get sent off into life. But they got nothing. No matter how well their grades, how athletically capable, no matter how strong, or beautiful, they got nothing. Without a parent they could never hope to receive something so marvelous.

No. There was no FUCKING way Matthew was going to sit there and watch as all his classmates went up there and got their last names, going places in life. Watching as the girls batted their eye lashes at the boys who got particularly buff last names. Your last name was your identity. It showed who you were. It showed how empty an orphan was. Your last name could make the difference between getting a partner or not. Showing off an impressive last name was everything.

Of course, you can realize how a last name wouldn't matter nearly as much before the ceremony, what with everyone having their father's last name and whatnot. It could still be used to impress others but it wasn't nearly as affective seeing as how it wasn't your own. That's why Matthew, and all the other orphans, could survive for as long as they could. Last names being nothing but a shiny license plate. Not your ticket to life.

Besides, where would they all end up? the streets. Once you were 18, you were gone. The foster homes kicked you off in to the streets with nothing but the clothes on your back and the hope you wound up better than a corpse in a ditch. Matthew didn't want to see their unforgiving stares as they sent him off to god knows where. To most likely to continue what he did best in high school, fucking any man with a green enough bill in his pocket, just to hope some poor bastard would be desperate enough to let a blank in their apartment building. Yeah sure legally they were supposed to look over our blank status, but who even bothered to enforce that rule? If a blank was killed, did anyone care enough to investigate? no. If Matthew was murdered right here in the middle of the class would anyone come forward and say who did it? no. would the police care? no. would he care?

no.

The shriek bell tears the tense air of history and our teacher sends us off, yelling at us not to forget our history reports for next week. He doesn't expect anything from me, even though he will receive one. He'll simply skim it and give it a A as he always does. Mr. Adolf Beildschmidt was possibly one of the only teachers who wasn't 100% biased against him. Well, him and his counselor. Every other teacher just skipped his work, slapping an average B on there.

He sighed and slipped his student card in to the card reader outside his class. He held it there for a few seconds, waiting for it to scan his student ID and let him in (it always took longer processing students without a last name) before he felt his card ripped out of his hand and held high above his head. He didn't even need to look to know who was there.

"Gilbert" he said sternly "I can't afford to be late for class again"

The Albino asshole smirked "funny, because I can"

Matthew pulled himself from the door and pressed himself against the boy. He knew arousing him wouldn't help him, but maybe if he played a little bit the teachers wouldn't mind...

Matthew smirked, draping his arms around the German's neck (Prussian? Matthew wasn't even sure what a Prussian was...) "you really know how to grab someone's attention then, boy"

"call me that again" he whispered huskily in his ear "and I'll have you begging for mercy"

Matthew grinned wildly "boy"

Sure, having your face pressed against the cold tiles of a men's bathroom stall wasn't in the least bit comfortable and yes, having your hips gripped from behind hard enough to darken bruises already there was painful, but for these few moments of bliss it was worth it.

Gilbert's face was flushed and sweat dripped down his forehead as he repeatedly, in a steady pattern, thrusted in to the small Canadian in front of him. He groaned, and grunted, and made other animalistic noises of pleasure that echoed off the walls. Any passer-byers knew that bathroom was closed if Matthew was going about his "activities" again.

Sure it was painful, and sure it was probably only really enjoyable for the man moaning and groaning as he thrusted in to the smaller man, but said Canadian did not care. It was the attention he craved, knowing that right now he the undivided attention of the German man. So what if it was just for the period of time they were having sex? Why was sex such a holy activity that he couldn't sleep around?

besides, he was just a blank. A nameless orphan. This was the closest to love he was ever going to get.

throughout the rest of the day, people gave him strange glances and piercing glares. Matthew knew Gilbert was going around bragging about his escapades. Most people just whispered evil things when they thought he couldn't hear him. But of course there was always that one prick who just couldn't resist, and it was always the same asshole every fucking time...

"Couldn't help but hear Gilbert bragging about how he fucked you in to a wall during class, last block" that cocky motherfucking voice taunted. Matthew probably loathed this man the most, wanted him dead, wanted him to just walk a mile in his shoes or live a day in his life. See what it's like being an orphan.

Alfred Kirkland-Bonnefoy.

At this moment, he had him cornered in a more secluded section of the halls. Most people were in the cafeteria ordering their lunches, because they could. Matthew's group of friends, his real friends, were probably outside somewhere dealing with empty stomachs just as he would be doing soon. That is, if this little shit would let him leave.

"was it nice, knowing you were just being used like a little bitch? Everyone knows he's dating Elizaveta and you wanna know something funny?" Alfred leaned closer to Matthew, who had no where to back up to, already pushed against a wall. He stared back defiantly, nothing to say to the American's taunting words.

"she doesn't care if he fucks you. That's all you are, a fuck." when Matthew didn't react, Alfred drew back "pfft, you've probably fucked her too" and with that, he sauntered away, leaving Matthew to struggle against tears. He swallowed them down, refusing to cry. Tears got you nowhere.

The rest of the day was an incomprehensible blur. At some point the German sneaked him a 20 dollar bill, in thanks. He always did this. It was his way of reminding Matthew, of reminding himself, that there were no emotional attachments between them. Gilbert fuck Matthew. Gilbert pay Matthew. Repeat.

But of course, as the final bell of the day rang and Matthew prepared to leave, the man he possibly loathed the most besides Alfred was already waiting outside the door for him.

"Bonjour Matthieu" He alerted the smaller boy to his presence. Matthew hated him with so much fury, wanted him to leave, and never return. Never bother him with his damn "counseling sessions" ever again. To just STOP DAMN PRETENDING HE WAS TRYING TO HELP.

"Matthieu it is Wednesday, did you forget again?" He stared at him with fucking disappointed eyes as if he actually cared if Matthew bothered to showed up.

"no"

"were you just going to ignore that you have sessions with me ever Monday, Wednesday, Friday afterschool again?"

"yes"

The Frenchman sighed, and placed a hand to his forehead to remove the non existent sweat "Matthieu, these sessions are helping you figure out what you are going to do after you graduate. You need a plan. Life doesn't just hand you things on a silver platter" especially to people like you. it went unsaid, but Matthew knew it was there.

"I've told you time and time again" Matthew gathered his books and various homeworks in to his backpack "I don't know what I'm doing after I graduate" I'm jumping off the school roof.

"Matthieu..." He started off in that voice he always uses when he gets to that topic.

"stop, just stop now"

"Matthieu you must consider that maybe if you weren't so free with your body you could actually hold a chance in this world..."

"stop" Matthew was shaking now "stop with your filthy fucking lies."

"Matthieu..." Francis reached forward towards the shaking boy, his eyes seemed sad and almost pitying

"I HAVE NO CHANCE IN THIS LIFE" Matthew finally snapped and screamed, looking right at the teacher "NO CHANCE, NONE. I AM AN ORPHAN, I LET PEOPLE FUCK ME FOR TWENTY BUCKS. WHAT FUCKING CHANCE DO I HAVE?" Without waiting for a response, he stormed past the Frenchman without looking at his face.

He was just so tired of people pretending they understood him.

"3 months" he whispered nearly inaudibly under his breathe.

Francis sighed as he slumped in to the chair in the teachers lounge "I don't know how to deal with that boy..." unaware someone was listening

"just ignore him" Yao, the history teacher responded behind him "that boy is going nowhere, everyone knows it, aru."

Francis sighed "I can't just do that Yao."

The Chinese teacher sipped his tea "and why not, aru? There are plenty of other blanks in the school who have much more potential than that whore"

"YAO" Francis snapped, looking at him expectantly

"what?" He didn't even bother looking up from his tea "I'm just saying it as it is. That boys is going nowhere, aru"

That boy is going nowhere, and everyone knows. Even the boy himself.

Francis was enveloped in a warming embrace by his marvelous husband, Arthur.

"have a nice day at work?" Arthur asked politely, already setting up the necessary ingredients for dinner (which Francis would make, god forbid Arthur touch a stove)

"yes" he loosened his tie "although exhausting, I will admit. I just can't ignore that Matthew boy."

Arthur stiffened, although Francis did not notice "and why is that?" his voice was dead cold.

"I don't know. I just feel he has so much potential within him. I don't want to seem him out there on the streets selling his body to random men. I care for him, and I feel as if no one else in this world does" Francis sighed

Arthur nearly growled "that's because no one does. He's a free loading orphan, costing people like us so much in taxes when they themselves contribute nothing to society. If it was up to me, We'd have rounded them all up and have them executed the moment they were orphaned"

"Arthur!" Francis was shocked. Never before had he heard such vile things from his husband's mouth, and he spoke like sailor.

"sorry" he apologized, without actually sounding sorry "but I just don't think they are even human once their parents are gone. They're just so... different"

"different is not bad, Arthur"

"I know, I know. But that doesn't change the way I think"

They fell in to an awkward silence after that. Francis busying himself with dinner, while Arthur went over paperwork in his office. They didn't very often speak about Matthew, for specifically this reason. While Francis thought it was society's duty to help people like him, Arthur very strongly thought they were worse than the gum stuck to his shoe.

"DAD, PAPA, I'M HOME" their only son called in to the otherwise empty house, slamming the door behind him.

"Hello, Alfred" Francis smiled, hoping his normally oblivious son wouldn't pick up on him and his father's tense atmosphere from the bickering earlier. When it came to this topic, Francis was outnumbered. Both his son and husband agreed, orphans were terrible.

Luckily today, god was on his side "what's for din-din?"

Francis proudly displayed his nearly complete creation "roasted ham with pineapple and Brussels sprouts. It should be done in about an hour"

"Awesome!" he shouted "I am STARVING" He threw his bag on the couch and ran up to his room, presumably to play video games.

A slightly muffled voice from the office shouted "do your homework Alfred! If your grades drop any lower, I'm pulling you from the football team!"

Francis chuckled, glad that the earlier grief had been dispelled. While Alfred and Arthur certainly had their moments, they were father and son at the heart, even at a biological level. They'd had a surrogate mother for Alfred, using Arthur's sperm. While Francis was just as much his father, he felt the way those two connected as father and son. Sometimes he wondered how that felt. Knowing your child was your very own. Feeling that magical bond...

A sharp knock on the door woke him from his reverie. Placing the stove on a medium-low so it wouldn't over boil, he went and answered the door, knowing Alfred couldn't be bothered to get up for at least half an hour after arriving home from a game, and Arthur wouldn't hear it through the nearly sound proof walls he had installed so he could work in peace.

Opening the door, a man in social services uniform stood. The same straight face, the same dull grey uniform, The same hairstyle. His eyes held no hope nor happiness in them. Just... nothing.

"Mister Bonnefoy?" His voice was monotone, betraying no emotion whatsoever, as they were trained to do.

"...yes?"

"With the increasing amounts of children in the foster care system, DNA tests are being done on abandoned children with one or more living parents. You have been found as the father of one of the local children. Here is his profile, personal information, profile picture, grades in school, and other necessary information. Whether or not you lay claim to him his completely your choice. You have until he graduates, 3 months, to decide." He handed the stunned frenchman a sealed large yellow envelope with said papers inside, turned, and left. After a few moments of standing there stunned, he turned and went inside, closing the door behind him.

For minutes, or possibly hours for he did not have a lucid grasp of time at this moment, he sat and stared at the envelope, unsure if he truly wanted to know the secrets the contents held. He could just throw it in the fire, pretend he'd never seen it nor known about it. Just pretend the man never visited, The envelope never existed, and forget about the whole incident.

But... somehow, out there, he had a son. His own biological son. His own flesh and blood. Who was he to condemn this boy to a life of poverty and depression? What if he knew this boy? He had to... He had to know.

Slowly, with trembling hands, he opened the envelope.

A/N ahaha late chapter is so, so late. I am sorry but my health has been suffering terribly this flu season, not to mention writers block in the middle of this chapter, so take this extra long chapter as an apology. please review, it is like medication to my writer block ridden mind!

Also, thank you to all the lovely people who reviewed last chapter and had to wait so long for this chapter