Part 3 finally, if you want another make sure to tell me because I find this kinda emotionally draining to write and I won't do it unless I'm nudged. x))

Matthew clasped to Francis' chest as they walked to the cemetery, looking around for the headstone he knew to be his mothers, the yellowish white marble headstone with the pot of blue flowers placed in front.

"Mummy," he cried out, smiling and waving at the headstone as it entered his view.

Francis placed him on the floor, "That's right mon cherie," he cooed, "Go and say hello."

The man's smile fell as the youngest boy ran to the stone and hugged it. "Alfred," he said to the other child, looking down at the boy by his side, "Say hello to your mother, I'm sure she's missed you."

Alfred waved at the headstone, "Hi mommy," he said softly, sitting at the edge of the grave's outline, looking down at the few pieces of paper he'd brought.

"You want to show her your report card Alfred?" Francis asked, sitting at his side.

Alfred nodded, biting his lip softly, "I will when Mattie's done talking."

Francis nodded, looking over at the smaller boy as he jabbered at the headstone. He was usually a very quiet boy but bringing him here brought out the chatty side of him. It was like he saved up all his opinions for his visits here.

Francis wrapped his arm around Alfred's shoulders, pulling him close and resting his chin on Alfred's head, "She'd be so proud of you Alfie, she really would."

Alfred nodded, looking between the headstone and the card in his hand, "I know uncle Francis, daddy said so too."

"When did you show your father?" Francis asked in surprise, lifting his head and smiling softly.

"Yesterday," Alfred said softly, "He was having a good day yesterday..." he looked up at him, "Why does daddy have to have so many bad days? They're getting worse."

"It's because of how much he drinks," Francis tried to explain, frowning softly, "It will get worse until he stops, but he won't stop."

Alfred huffed softly, bringing his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around himself and watching Matt natter away, spewing a mix of French and English sentences.

Matt talked to the headstone, his voice heightening as he giggled, reciting the story of his first day of preschool and the new friends he'd made and that one boy he didn't like because he didn't like pancakes.

Once he'd finished his story he made his way across the grave, sitting at Francis' side and hugging his arm tight, burying his head into the man's arm.

"Uncle?" Matthew squeaked against his sleeve, "Can we have a mummy story?"

Francis nodded smally, "Of course you can Mattie," he pulled him closer, nuzzling against him and rubbing his side. "Uh... how about..." he chewed his lip, trying to think of an age appropriate story. "When she met your daddy, I've not told you that story in a while."

The boys nodded in unison, the older man pulling them close, "Well it's funny. Me and your daddy were roommates in college, and we went to a party with your mummy, I was meant to take your daddy home after the party, but I went home with a girl, so mummy took him home, and they spent the night together talking."

"And then I was born," Alfred said with a soft giggle, smiling up at Francis.

Francis shook his head, "No, you came years after, after your mummy and daddy got married."

Matthew looked between them, "When did I come..?"

"5 years after Alfred... when she was ill," he shook his head, "Best not to talk about that bit."

Alfred frowned at Matthew, letting out a small huff, "Stories about mommy always make me sad at the end."

Francis nodded, giving Alfred's head a soft kiss, "You wanted to show your mother your report card?"

Alfred nodded, holding out his card. "She can't see it Alfred you have to tell her," Francis reminded him.

"Oh," Alfred said softly, pulling the card back to himself and looking down to read it. "Miss George wrote 'Alfred's reading and writing has improved over the sem-es-ter, he's best in the class in gym and he's getting better at making new friends. And I got a B in all my tests."

Francis smiled softly, "That's very good Alfred, we're all very proud of you."

"Can we go for a McDonalds now..?" the boy asked tentatively, forcing a weak smile as he looked up at his uncle.

Francis nodded, turning his head to Matt and smiling at the small boy, "Do you want to go and get a McDonalds now or do you want to stay longer?"

"I want to go," Matthew said reluctantly, looking over at his mother's headstone and waving goodbye to it.

"You've said everything you wanted to say?" Francis clarified, the two boys nodding in unison. "Then say goodbye," he instructed.

Matthew waved again, "Bye bye mummy." he whispered, climbing back into Francis' arms and hugging his neck, nuzzling against him.

Francis got to his feet, holding Matthew close to him, "Alfred say goodbye."

Alfred shook his head, "No," he said pointedly, "I don't like saying goodbye, it makes it too sad."

Francis smiled softly and nodded, lowering a hand to ruffle Alfred's hair, "Ok Alfred, you don't have to say it. Let's go and buy a McDonalds, we'll get some for your father too."

"Daddy likes the big burgers," Matthew mumbled softly, "Did mummy like the big burgers? I want to have what mummy liked."

"Of course, Mattie." Francis nodded, "Mummy liked having nuggets, and strawberry milkshake. Do you want to try that?"

Matthew nodded, smiling weakly and letting out a small whispered 'yeah'. Alfred frowned, "I want it too!" he bleated, tugging Francis' sleeve as the older man began to lead them towards the car, "I want nuggets, chicken nuggets are my new favourite."

Francis nodded, "Ok Alfred, you have whatever you want," he smiled at him as he put Matthew in his car seat, helping Alfred into his.

They pulled up at home just over twenty minutes later, bags of food in hand. Francis led them up the steps to their house, unlocking the door and walking in.

"Arthur?" Francis called, "Are you out of bed? We have food."

"We got a McDonalds!" Alfred called gleefully, "We got mommy's favourite," he giggled, taking his bag of food and running to the living room.

"Oh good," they heard Arthur say from his room, "Say, is Amelia with you then? I called but she didn't answer me."

Francis let out a small unhappy huff, "Arthur..." he said quietly, putting Matthew down. "Boys go and eat in the living room, I need to talk to your papa."

He watched the small boy run off after his brother, smiling after him before turning to walk to their father's room, his smile dropping.

"Arthur," he said to the man, still in bed, "We brought food, your favourite burger, maybe it'll help you clear your head."

"Is Amelia out there?" the other man said, dazed.

"I'm not doing this again Arthur, I told you less than two hours ago. Come on."

Arthur shakily got to his feet, squinting as he tried to remember, "She's gone isn't she, my Amelia..? Something happened, and she's gone?"

"That's right Arthur," Francis said calmly, "But your boys still need you, you need to be a father to them, come on." He reached out to take his hand, leading him through to the living room and sitting him down, laying out the food in front of him, "Here Arthur," he said to get his attention, "Eat up."

Arthur chewed his lip slightly, looking down at the food and beginning to pick at it.

He looked up at Matthew and Alfred, watching them eating, smiling softly, he swallowed hard and leant back on his chair, "These are my boys?" he asked softly, his smile widening slightly, "You know your mother used to like chicken nuggets and strawberry milkshake just like that."

"I know papa," Matthew said, nodding and eating more of his chips, "Do you want some papa?"

Arthur nodded, "Oh yes please, uh..." he paused, closing his eyes as he tried to remember the boy's name.

"Matthew," Alfred almost shouted, frowning at his father.

"Matthew," Arthur said again to remind himself, nodding to himself before clearing his throat and continuing his sentence, "Your mother would never let me have any of hers."

Matthew held out a piece of chicken, waiting patiently for his father to take it. The older man held it and looked at it for a moment before eating it, humming and nodding at the taste, "I can see why she liked them."

"Can I have some of your burger papa?" the young boy asked, holding out his hand.

Arthur nodded and held out the burger, letting the child take a small bite.

Matthew chuckled as he returned to his food, looking over at Alfred, who did not look quite so happy. Matthew's laughter fading at the sight of the frown on his brother's face.

"Alfred?" he asked quietly, holding out some of his food, "Did you want some too?"

"No," Alfred almost growled, looking between Matthew and his father. He got to his feet and picked up his food, walking off towards his room and leaving the rest of his family looking between each other seeming somewhat confused.

"I'll go and talk to him," Francis said quietly, he patted Matthew on the shoulder as he walked past, "Eat your food Mattie."

He walked through to the small bedroom that Matthew and Alfred shared, stepping over the piles of clothes and toys on the door to sit on the bed, where Alfred sat crying quietly to himself.

"What's wrong Alfred..?" Francis said quietly, shifting on the bed to face Alfred fully.

"I want mommy back," Alfred squeaked through his tears, "I want her here too," he wiped his eyes, "Daddy doesn't even remember Mattie's name..."

Francis reached over to rub Alfred's back, "Alfred..." he said softly, "You know it's not his fault."

"It is his fault!" Alfred yelled, flinching away from Francis' hand, "He drinks all the time and he makes his memory bad, that's what you told me."

Francis swallowed hard, looking away as he tried to gather himself and plan out what he should say. "That... That is true Alfred, but he drinks because he's ill. And being mad at him isn't going to make him better."

"I can't not be mad," Alfred whined, wiping his eyes again and looking up at his uncle. "I don't feel happy like this."

Francis exhaled slowly, "Alfred, I know, I'm not happy either... I'm trying to make it better for you both, I'm doing all I can to make it better. But it's never going to be perfect. We've got to make the best of what we've got."

Alfred nodded, moving over to hug Francis tightly, "I'm sorry I got mad. I'm trying to make everything happy but it just doesn't work."

"I know... I miss your mother too. She always cheered everyone up, even when your daddy got mad she'd know the right joke to say to make him calm down."

Alfred looked down, beginning to calm as he hugged the older man, nuzzling into him. "Mommy was your sister wasn't she..? That would be like Matt dying for me.."

Francis nodded, hugging the boy tighter, "Yes, but you shouldn't think like that, Alfred, you'll just upset yourself. Now, do you want to come back out to eat or stay in here a little while?"

Alfred shrugged, "I'll come back out, I don't actually like eating in my room..."

"I know you don't, why would you? Look I'll even let you watch the TV when you eat."

Alfred took his food and walked back towards the living room, his eyes on his feet as he walked back to his seat, turning to face and turn on the TV.

Arthur smiled at him from his seat on the sofa as he picked at his food, seeming almost absent, "Alfred, you've grown up so much, you've got to be in school now."

Alfred swallowed hard, nodding and blinking away the tears that had suddenly jumped to his eyes, "Yeah I am daddy, I got my report card a-and I got Bs in everything."

"Oh that's good," Arthur said with a soft smile, reaching out to ruffle Alfred's hair, Alfred accepted the action begrudgingly, "I'm very proud of you Alfred. Is the McDonalds a reward?"

Alfred nodded, raising a shaking hand and wiping his eyes, "Yeah…" he looked up at Francis as if pleading with him to take Arthur's attention away from him, not wanting to continue the repeat of the previous day's conversation.

Francis smiled and rubbed Arthur's back, swallowing hard and pushing the last of his own food towards him, "Arthur, eat up, Alfred's had an exhausting day he doesn't want to talk about it anymore."

I hope you enjoyed it, please leave a review!