Or, 'In Which Francis Goes From Living With Himself To Living With Another.'
Hey guys, Kitty29 here with a new chapter of 'To Follow The Music'. I have literally just been writing all day and I don't know why. Anyways, this is the result of like, seven? hours straight lol. This chapter is a little break away from Gilbert and the band mates and instead focuses on Matthew and Francis. Which is a bit scary for me cause I'm not so good at writing Francis in first person .-. So I hope you enjoy!
It was strange for the Frenchman to think of living with another person. He wouldn't say he preferred to be alone, but he had been living by himself ever since his depressed roommate committed suicide back in collage and everyone then refused to stay in the same room as his 'ghost'. But he decided it was good for him. He always thought that it was a bit of a waste to live in a potentiality two bedroom apartment by himself anyway.
So after a bit of cleaning and a lot of paper work Francis found himself to be the temporary guardian of Matthew Williams. And when he said temporary, he meant temporary, seeing as the Canadian's eighteenth birthday was less then a month away. When that happened he could be his own man(though Francis found it hard to think of Matthew as a man. Maybe it was because he's known him since he was small...er). But until then, he just had to take care of him as much as he could.
So yes, it was a bit strange living with someone, but it was even stranger taking care of someone. He was thankful that his friends had taken a liking to the kid and had decided to help him as much as they could.
"So you think their gonna sentence his Dad to death or something?"
...Or maybe not.
Francis glared at the Prussian. What the hell was going through that mind of his that said it was okay to say something like that in front of Matthew? He was thankful when Arthur, who was currently next to the red eyed man, punched him on the shoulder and it certainly looked like he put some weight into it. Gilbert rubbed his arm and glared at the Brit.
"Ow! What the fuc—"
"Language!" Antonio yelled, reaching over and cupping his hands over the young blond's ears.
They were at Francis' apartment, helping with moving Matthew's things over. Though Matthew had said that he was fine with whatever was in the two small bags that he had with him, the four older males ignored him, thinking he was nervous because his stuff was back at the house where his abusive father was. Though at that point his father had been detained and the males were allowed to go in and gather up the rest of his stuff, which truthfully, wasn't that much. Anyways, they had all just returned to the apartment and were taking a little break before they moved all the stuff from Francis' car. Francis was in the kitchen preparing a few things for his guests while Antonio was continuing his keyboard lessons with Matthew, who was rather intrigued by the instrument. This left Gilbert and Arthur to bum on the couch, not really doing much of anything.
Matthew reached up and removed the hands from his ears, a small sheepish smile on his face. "It-It's okay. W-We don't have the death penalty in Canada so—"
"So how are those sandwiches coming along, Francis?" Arthur decided to call out, trying to change the topic. Gilbert frowned at him.
"Aren't you the one who said it was rude to interrupt people or some shi—OW! Stop hitting me!"
"Maybe you can go and pick up a few things?" Francis supplied, amazed by just how dense the Prussian was being. "Make yourself useful? It'll be done when you get back."
Gilbert rose at eyebrow at the other and opened his mouth to retort but Arthur had grabbed him by the shirt and forced him to leave, the Prussian cussing him as they went. Matthew looked worriedly at the scene.
"Y-you don't have to stop conversations because of me..." He said meekly, adjusting his hat, which today was a red newsboy cap, to make sure it was covering his bruise. Antonio smiled down at him.
"You don't worry about it okay, Mateo? Let's continue, we only have so much time before I have to go!"
From there it luckily went much smoother. They ate their lunch before they helped Matthew move his things in. Though Matthew had said that he was fine with the stuff he had he was delighted to get his laptop back. It was rather cute, he looked like a kid at Christmas that wanted nothing more than to play with his new toy.
The cuteness wore off after a week or so.
Francis had tried to be respectful and not bother him too much, knowing that Matthew was adjusting to his new life as well as studying for an exam he had(he had refused the offer to take the exam at a later time, not wanting any special treatment. He said that he only had one exam so it wasn't that big of a deal). But even so, the Canadian had pretty much held himself up in his room for the last week, only exiting when Francis called for him to eat. This couldn't have been healthy, right? He figured that, as his guardian, he should probably do something about that...right?
Uh...Right? Right!
Knocking on Matthew's door, he tried to get his attention. "Mathieu! Mathieu can you come out please?" He stepped away as various sounds of shuffling came from within the room and a moment later the Canadian peeked out the door.
"What is it, Francis?" He said, opening the door just enough so that he could get his head through, like he was hiding something on the inside. Francis noted that this was one of the first times he's seen the blond without a hat in the middle of the day. Well, his bruise was healing up nicely. Francis smiled down at the smaller blond.
"Get dressed, Mathieu. We're going out."
At this, the Canadian seemed to tense. "Um, where are we going?"
Francis shrugged. "Where ever you want to go. It's almost lunch time and I don't really feel like cooking today."
At this, Matthew looked a little downcast. "But...I like your cooking..." He said silently, his cheeks turning a light pink. The sight was almost enough to make Francis run into the kitchen and start preparing something for them.
Almost.
"Thank you, Mathieu but you've been spending too much time locked up in this place, you need your vitamin C, non? I also have to pick up some hot chocolate mix. I believe our last can is done."
The boy's eyes widened a bit at that. "Oh! Um...no it's not done I just..." He excused himself before he disappeared into his room, reappearing a moment later with the can of hot chocolate mix that the other assumed to be finished. "I was...using it..."
Francis rose an eyebrow before he took the offered can. "You're not eating this directly are you?"
Matthew shook his head furiously, a disgusted look on his face. Francis didn't ask anymore questions as he smiled. "Okay. We will leave in an hour, oui?"
The younger blond looked a bit surprised by the lack of questions as he slowly nodded. "Okay...I mean, oui." With that he closed the door once again. Francis turned and went towards his kitchen, looking down at the hot chocolate in hand with wonder. He wondered what possible use the thing could have but shook the thought out of his head as he placed it away. He was sure that if Matthew wanted to tell him then he would tell him.
/ / / \ \ \
Matthew, being his usual timid and unsure self, didn't know where he wanted to go. He did, however, say that he wanted a hamburger, and so Francis took them to a nearby mall that held many different fast food places in it's food court. He wasn't big on fast food, but he figured that eating the stuff every once in a while was fine, plus from what he could remember Matthew was a pretty large fan of the stuff. They decided to go to A&W's though it was as they were settling down at a table that Matthew noticed that the people forgot to give them ketchup.
"Do not worry, I'll go and get some," Francis said with a smile, raising from the seat. He walked back over to the place to get their forgotten ketchup packets (getting more than he needed when the girl got a little too flustered from his simple flirtatious wink). He turned to go back to Matthew but paused when he noticed a women hovering over the blond and Matthew was looking rather uncomfortable as he glanced around.
Francis' eyes narrowed as he instantly knew just what that women was. A reporter. This wouldn't be the first time he had run into one of them, but he was very much hoping it would be the last. Dieu, they were like leeches! Could he not turn his back for two minutes?
"Hello," he greeted politely when he walked over, though nothing in his tone was friendly. "And you are?"
The women looked up at him and smiled charmingly. If this was another time, Francis would have noted how hot she was. If this was another time, he would have flirted and got her number. But this was not the time.
"Hello there! You must be Francis, I'm Cathleen. Cathleen Powell, reporter for the JPU news." She held out a hand for him to shake. He didn't take it. Getting the hint, she retreated her hand. "Getting to the point, I would love to have your permission to air this story! And maybe have an interview with Matthew, if that's okay."
"No." Was Francis' shift shut down before he moved around the women to sit at the table. "Now if you would please excuse us, we're trying to eat."
Though, like all good reporters, she was persistent. "Oh, please Mr. Bonnefoy, sir! This story is like something out of a fantasy novel! The boy running away from the home nearly dead, if not for the kindness of complete strangers and then getting reunited with long lost family! It would be a crime not to publish this!"
Francis turned to glare at her. Though what she said was obviously an exaggeration, she shouldn't have known all that stuff to begin with. "How did you get that information?"
The women coughed into her fist before she flicked back her hair. "I have my sources," she said proudly. Seeing as the Frenchman continued to glare at her, she turned her attention to Matthew. "So, what do you say to just one interview? Think of the inspiration it will give to all the other kids in a abused relationship. You could be a hero!"
Matthew just looked away, distress clearly in his face as he constantly adjusted his sleeves and baseball cap, making sure they were covering the marks of abuse. "I, um..."
Francis stood again, and grabbed onto her wrist in a not to gentle fashion to get her attention. "Do not try to seduce Mathieu Ms. Powell, the answer is still no. I suggest you leave before I call security."
Cathleen looked from the hand grabbing her to Francis, her smile never fading. "Oh? Security, Mr. Bonnefoy? From what I can see it looks like I'm the lady being harassed by a larger gentleman."
Francis let go of her arm and narrowed his eyes at her. She smirked back. He looked to Matthew. "Come Mathieu, we'll eat at home."
Matthew just nodded before he put the food back into the bags (Francis had a habit of ordering things to go even when it wasn't) and picked them up before he also got up and followed his cousin away.
"Think about what I said, Matthew! A hero!" Cathleen called out, making the Canadian flinch as he quickened his pace. Francis placed a comforting hand on his back.
It was in that exact moment that he was met with both a realization and a reminder. He realized that even though Matthew was a victim of physical abuse, he was pretty good with people touching him, provided he could see them about to touch him. He also remembered that he was taking care of a victim of abuse, which you would think wouldn't be something that's so easy to forget. But in this case...it kind of was.
As soon as Francis hand contacted with the others back, Matthew let out a loud scream that the Frenchman didn't even think the Canadian could produce before he ripped away and shoved him away. Francis, obviously startled by both the scream and the shove, lost his balance and tripped over a chair that was just behind him. He fell over said chair and fell hard on his back, his head bouncing against the hard titled floor quite loudly.
Francis couldn't decided if English or French cusses would better describe the pain he was in, so he settled for a weird mix of both, causing both the French and English Canadian mothers alike to cover up their children's ears.
"Francis!" Matthew shrieked before rushed to his relatives side. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, I mean I...Oh my god! Are you alright?"
"I'm...Fine," Francis managed through clutched teeth. He reached up and rubbed the back of his head, still mumbling curses under his breath. He silently thanked some of his crazy ex's that seeked revenge on him for his hard head. If you could call a one night stand with someone your ex. He said similar things to people who asked if he was okay until a rent a cop came along and helped him to his feet.
"Francis, I am so sorry! I really didn't mean to! I'm really really sorry, I don't know what came over me I—"
"It's okay, Mathieu," he assured as soon as the stars stopped shining in his vision. "It's not your fault, I should not have touched you like that. Let's just go home and eat, non?"
Matthew looked at him in worry, but slowly began to follow the other as he walked away, still rubbing his head. "A-Are you sure you're okay to drive?"
"I'll be fine, Mathieu. If my mind forgets I am sure my body will remember."
Unbeknownst to the two, Cathleen Powell smirked before she pocketed the camera and walked away.
/ / / \ \ \
Francis rested his head on his folded arms and stared at Matthew studying from the kitchen (him having finally convinced the young boy to study in the open rather than lock himself in his room all day). He tried not to make the other feel overwhelmed by asking him too many questions but even so this whole issue was starting to bother him. The questions had started when Gilbert had first opened his big mouth and only further continued when both he and Matthew had heard the news just a few minutes ago.
Just because he didn't give permission for Matthew to be on the news didn't mean the press wasn't all over Matthew's father. It was a simple report, just talking about the crimes he was arrested for and that his trail date had yet to be decided. If there was anything more to the story Francis wouldn't be able to tell for he turned off the television as fast as he could and told his cousin that that was enough TV and that he should study for his exam tomorrow. But Matthew's father wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him was Matthew's reaction to his father.
Every time he was introduced to the topic of his father Francis expected him to look distress or scared and want to change the topic as soon as possible but he was actually almost the exact opposite. Whenever his abuser was brought up, Matthew remained as impassive as if they were talking about the weather and seemed more than willing to talk about him.
It worried Francis, and it wasn't as if he could go to Matthew's assigned therapist for advice seeing as their first appointment was next week (she was apparently on a vacation in the Bahamas. Who goes on a vacation the month before summer?). And he really didn't know if he should just bring it up out of the blue.
"Is something wrong, Francis?"
Francis snapped out of his gaze to find Matthew looking back at him, his head tilted slightly as he waited for an answer. Francis straightened up and smiled at him. Even if he chose to randomly bring up the issue, doing it the day before his exam would be thoughtless. "No, nothing is wrong. I was just wondering if you wanted something to drink."
Matthew just continued to stare, his large violet eyes blinking behind his glasses. "Is this about the man that used to hit me?"
Francis froze and his eyes widened in surprise, not expecting the words that left the Canadian's mouth.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Matthew further asked, looking completely unfazed. It took a while for the Frenchman to gather his bearings but when he did he promptly answered,
"No, no Mathieu you focus on studying," Francis said before he smiled and turned around to get something from the fridge.
"I want to talk about it."
Again Francis froze. Well, who was he to deny such an honest request? Sighing, he walked to where Matthew was and sat down next to him on the couch. "I have a question to ask but you don't have to answer if you don't want to, okay?"
The younger blond nodded and Francis continued.
"When ever your father is brought up you never seem...sad about it. I am not saying that not being sad is a bad thing but...It is something I thought you would be."
"Well..." Matthew started before he bit his bottom lip and looked down at his lap, trying to think of how to word his thoughts. "There are a lot of different ways that I coped with...with the a-abuse and I guess that one of them was...Not thinking of that man as...My father." He paused to tuck some hair that had fallen in his face behind his ear, unintentionally putting his bruise in full view. "I-I mean...Fathers are suppose to...Love you and take care of you and help you with your problems...T-that man didn't do any of that. So...I suppose he deserves what he's getting for...Everything he did to me..."
"He does deserve it," Francis assured, placing a comforting hand on his leg. "Even if you don't think this, I want you to know that this wasn't your fault, okay?"
Matthew nodded. "I know."
Smiling, Francis reached up, making sure that the other could see him, and ruffled his hair affectionately. "That's because you're smart and you are going to pass this exam with flying colours!" He exclaimed before he pushed himself off the couch. "So, do you want something to drink?"
Matthew nodded, also smiling. "Do we have anymore peach juice?"
/ / / \ \ \
Francis released a sigh as he looked at his clock once more. Matthew's exam should be done by about this time, then again, maybe it was his fault for coming fifteen minutes earlier. What could he say? He was done with his work early and didn't know what to do with himself. Then again, being able to watch the high school students as they walked by was certainly a plus, ohohoho (...What? He wasn't that much older).
He was broken from his thoughts when the sound of the door opening and closing with a bit more force than necessary was heard. He turned to see the Canadian sitting there in the passengers seat, removing his backpack so he can place it more comfortably on his lap.
"How did it go?" The French speaking man asked as he watched the young blond pull on his seat belt.
"Fine," he stated with a bitter undertone lacing his words. "Can we go home now?"
Francis was taken aback by the answer. "I thought you wanted to go for ice cream after?"
Matthew shook his head. "I just want to go home." His eyes were fixed straight ahead of him, making it hard for the older male to see his expression.
With a small defeated sigh Francis started the car and started the drive home. The drive back was silent between the two, only the sound of the radio saving them from total quiet. As soon as they reached the apartment Matthew practically ran inside, kicking off his shoes and throwing his backpack in a random direction before storming to his room. Francis blinked at his behaviour. Usually he took his time making sure that his shoes were neatly put away and he always carried his backpack into his room with him. Francis concluded that something must have happened at school, for Matthew wasn't acting this way when he drove him this morning.
Walking over to Matthew's door, which the other had forgotten to close in his rush, and found Matthew sitting cross legged on his bed, his laptop open in front of him. Francis leaned on his door frame as he watched the other plug his rather large headphones in before wearing them around his neck, obviously not having use for them right now.
"Mathieu, what happened at school?" Francis asked.
"The other kids wouldn't stop bothering me. They knew who my father was," Matthew admitted, tugging on his selves so hard that the bruises along his collar bone began to peek out. "E-Even after I showed them them some scars they still w-wouldn't stop asking...Questions." He seemed to become frantic as he focused on his computer, typing something down almost feverishly.
Francis found himself growing worried as he pushed himself off the door frame. "They're just curious, Mathieu. They don't mean to do th—"
"Sorry, Francis but can we talk about this later?" Matthew interrupted, never taking his intent eye off the computer as he pulled the headphones over his ears. "I have to do this right now."
Before the Frenchman could ask what was so important, Matthew opened his mouth and a new voice flew out of it. To say that Francis was shocked was an understatement. He had heard the Canadian sing before, but that was years ago. Between then and now Matthew had definitely improved.
Not to mention he couldn't believe just how different the other was when he sang. Not only was his voice considerably different from when he was talking but it was almost as if his whole persona did a complete one eighty. While Matthew was normally meek and rather unsure of himself this Matthew practically glowed with confidence, his voice steady and strong, delivering every note with purpose. In his option, the Canadian was done far too soon and the young blond slowly settled back into his normal self. A goofy grin spread across his face as he slumped, looking like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, what were you saying Francis?" Matthew said, turning to his cousin like he hadn't just burst into song a few minutes prior. The other just continued to stare at him for a while, still a bit surprised.
"...I've forgotten how good you are," he said with a laugh, causing Matthew's cheeks to heat up at the compliment and look back at his laptop.
"D-Do you want to hear it? T-The song I mean. The vocals were just the last part of it so now it should be almost done..."
Francis blinked. "You made a whole song?" He said, obviously impressed. "But you don't have any instruments."
Matthew suddenly began to fuss about with his black beanie hat. "W-Well I have a melodica...But I didn't use instruments in the t-traditional sense in this one..." Matthew then scooted over and allowed the Frenchman space to sit, which Francis filled. Seeing the other was seated, he unplugged his headphones before putting the song back to the beginning and hitting play. It took a few seconds into the song before Francis realized just what was making the music.
"Mon dieu, Mathieu! Did you make a whole song out of random objects from around the house?"
Matthew nodded, his blush deepening when he saw how impressed his relative was. Francis was silent for a while as he continued to listen, only growing more proud of his cousin as it went on. Was this what he was working on all this time? Now he understood why he was in his room for such long periods of time.
"Is that hot chocolate I hear shaking in the background?"
Matthew nodded again, his cheeks glowing as he smiled sheepishly. "I-I'm sorry I took it without asking..."
"It's fine, Mathieu. So what are you going to do with it?"
"Well, I-I guess I'll do what anyone would do," Matthew said with a nervous shrug. "Put it on the internet."
Matt changed his hat like, three times in his chapter, lol. Where does he get all these hats?
A melodica is an instrument that's like a mini piano you blow into or something I dunno, look it up on google images. Or, commonly used by one of my favourite bands, the Gorillaz! I had one, but I lost it .-.
Thank you xVAMPIRExEMPRESSx, ThisIsMyCliche, Ayla The Librarian, xxassassinxx18, zero434, fairy-hime-108, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, MistyLovesSesshomaru, Ookami Aya, glassof-wine, Night13, gabieblue and IchigoMelon for the reviews!