Chapter 20

The rest of the weekend passed in a whirl of condolences, planning and greetings. For the most part, Matthew and Michelle stayed in the games room or wandering around the garden, trying to stay out of the way of the rest of the family. Matthew hadn't had time to learn more than a few basic phrases, and he knew that Michelle really wasn't feeling up to being a translator for him. Added to that, neither of them really wanted to spend much time with the adults, knowing that they would only be subjected to the same phrases repeated over and over.

All too soon, it seemed, it was Tuesday, and the funeral itself. Francis had explained the service to Matthew the day before, and reiterated that he and Michelle needn't stay for the full ceremony if they didn't want to. Matthew wouldn't understand little of it, and it would be rather inappropriate for someone to translate for him, speaking over the priest. Besides, it was hardly rare for family members to excuse themselves from a service; Michelle had said many times that she wasn't sure she would be able to cope with the full ceremony.

It was therefore agreed that the two of them would stay long enough to greet the family and priest, and at least the first prayer, and after that, there would be no problem with them leaving.

Matthew stood in front of his mirror, adjusting his tie with shaking hands. He looked up when he heard a sound, wordlessly dropping his arms and closing his eyes as he heard Francis come over to stand in front of him.

"Head up, Matthieu." He obeyed, allowing his father to correct the tie for him, his hands lingering on his son's shoulders. Matthew let his head fall forward until he rested against Francis' chest.

"It's really…real", he whispered. He blinked away a small tear.

Francis gave a soft sigh. "Yes. This is always the case, I'm afraid. We never quite realise it until it is in front of us, and then we cannot ignore it any longer."

He placed a finger on Matthew's chin, tilting his head up to look into his eyes.

"But try not to think of it that way. This may be the day to say goodbye, but it is also a time to remember her. Think of the memories you got to make with her instead."

Matthew nodded. "I'll try."

Francis smiled sadly at him. "Good. Now, if you are ready, the car is waiting downstairs. You are in the first, with Michelle and Emilie, and myself of course. I thought you would prefer that."

Matthew returned the smile, relieved that he would not be stuck in a car with people he hardly knew.

The church itself was beautiful. Although it wasn't far from the house, with the spire faintly visible from the roof and a few of the bedrooms, he hadn't actually been before. Francis had told him that his grandmother had been a regular there for most of her life until her illness had restricted her.

It was old, obviously, the centuries showing through the heavy stonework and exquisite carvings. Inside, the pews and beams were made from a rich, dark wood that smelled faintly of the incense they had soaked up through the years. Each had a tall, carved back and little red cushions to mark the seats.

His gaze was drawn upwards, to the richly painted ceiling, the colours bright and vibrant despite their age. The sun shone brilliantly through the stained glass, illuminating the floor in beams of colour.

It was a beautiful building, he thought, and a truly wonderful place to honour her memory.

Francis showed him and Michelle to the front, where the seats for the closest family members were reserved. As promised, theirs were to the end of the aisle, where they would be able to slip away unobtrusively when they wished.

Even without being able to understand the words, Matthew found the ceremony calming. The cadence of the priest's voice as he prayed was soft and lilting, and the sound of everyone's voices echoing off the high rafters during the hymn sent a shiver down his spine. Although he was largely unreligious himself, sitting there, he could understand why his grandmother had loved coming here. It was peaceful, the sense of centuries of tradition giving the church a timeless, ageless feel to it. He was almost a little sad when he felt Michelle's gentle press on his arm, wordlessly signalling that it was alright for them to slip out now.

They made their way around to the graveyard, with it's neat rows of headstones, some adorned with sculpted angels and flowers, others plain and stately. It was wonderfully quiet, the only sounds that of the birds chirping in the trees surrounding the grounds and the gentle sway of the trees in the light breeze.

"I'm glad she'll be here," Michelle said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Matthew looked over at her. "I know what you mean," he replied, smiling. "It's so peaceful."

Michelle gave a forlorn smile. "Graveyards always are, silly."

His smile twisted. "You know what I mean." His gaze roamed around. "You know, they're supposed to be very good for wildlife. Because it's so quiet, and relatively undisturbed." He remembered a program he had seen on TV a few years ago about it. Seeing Michelle's curious look, he continued,

"Deer, foxes, birds, those kinds of animals. I suppose it depends on the grounds, but I guess a place like this would probably be perfect for them."

Michelle's eyes softened at that. "Do you think…?" she trailed off.

"That we could find any? I don't know. I suppose so, if we knew what we were looking for. I'm really no expert on identification and stuff like that, though. It wouldn't hurt to look, I suppose. Just not for long. I don't know how long this will go on for."

Michelle shook her head. "I don't know. I was too young to remember Mama and Papa's. Please, we could check, couldn't we?"

Matthew understood the plea in her words, and nodded his head, agreeing. They made their way over to the edge of the grounds, where the treeline blended in with the grass. They were careful not to venture into the woods themselves, mindful of their clothing and the likely time limit.

After half an hour, they ceded defeat, neither of them knowing what exactly they were supposed to be looking for. They had, however, found a bunch of wildflowers that Michelle had deftly tied into a small bouquet to place on the coffin.

"She loved these," she said quietly, looking down at the flowers in her hand. "I used to spend hours outside when I was little, collecting as many as I could find. I tied them up with a piece of long grass, which would always come undone, but I would run back as fast as I could to show them to her. No matter how badly I'd tied them, or how scruffy they were, she would always smile and thank me. Then she would put them in a vase and place it in her room, and if I'd got enough, another one on the dinner table too. Grandfather would always laugh and tell me that one day the whole house would be full of flowers."

They both sobered at that. Matthew had not had much opportunity to speak with his grandfather, who had less grasp of English than his wife. As well as that, Michelle had confided to him that it seemed likely he was in the first stages of dementia, and might not know Matthew too well. The few times he had spoken to him had been with Michelle or Francis translating for him, but this was tiring on them both, and not always successful. Still, they managed to communicate with smiles and gestures, but on the whole, he had not managed to become very close with the old man. Francis had told him not to worry, that he had plenty of pictures of Matthew to show to him and that he just needed a little time to understand.

Matthew wondered what it would be like, to say goodbye to the person you had promised to spend your life with, likely in the same church that they had been married in. As Michelle had said, the church and it's grounds were truly lovely, and would be a wonderful resting place. With the short distance from the house, it wouldn't be far to come and pay their respects, whenever they wanted to.

Realising that they had spent almost an hour outside, they made their way back to the front. Michelle suddenly stopped, dropping her arm from Matthews and starting forward tentatively. Matthew followed her gaze, and wasn't particularly surprised to see Carlos standing by the entrance to the church.

The older teen nodded to them both. "Your dad called me the other day," he explained quietly. "He told me about your grandma, said I was welcome to pay my respects if I wanted. I'm very sorry for your loss."

Michelle looked like she was about to cry again, but squared her shoulders determinedly. It was only a second or two before she dropped again, however, and ran forward to him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder.

Carlos looked startled for a moment, then lifted his arm to rub her back tenderly. Matthew smiled softly, happy that the two had obviously grown a lot closer over the past month.

Carlos looked at him over Michelle's head, his expression almost wary despite his size. Matthew held back the urge to laugh, instead nodding wordlessly at the other. Carlos looked relieved, and tightened his hold around Michelle, murmuring words of comfort that Matthew only vaguely understood.

"I'll let papa know you're here," he said. Carlos shot him a smile, still cradling Michelle tenderly. Matthew couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that he could leave the two together for a moment.

He went back inside, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the relative shade after the bright morning sun.

Once he could see again, he walked softly down the aisle and slid into the seat beside Francis.

"Michelle is outside with Carlos," he murmured. Francis raised an eyebrow, but smiled. "Good. You didn't have to come back in, you know."

"I know." Matthew didn't offer an explanation, merely shifting until he could lay his head on Francis' shoulder. He was content to listen to the rest of the service, allowing the words to wash over him.

When it came to an end, Francis led everyone outside to where the burial would take place. As Francis had explained to Matthew before, his grandmother had arranged all of this many years ago, choosing the plot and headstone herself.

The burial itself was brief, with Michelle taking the bouquet she had made before and placing it reverently on the fresh soil. Francis handed Matthew another, allowing him to step forward and place it next to Michelle's before setting down his own.

Once the ceremony was concluded, the guests began to make their way into the church hall, where the wake was to be held. As most of the guests were friends of their grandmother, Francis had agreed to drive them back to the house before returning, as they were by this point both tired and rather emotionally drained.

After ushering everyone inside, Francis made his way over to them.

"Are you ready to leave?" he asked.

Matthew and Michelle both nodded, eager to be home and out of their stiff clothes.

"Alright. We shall have to be quick," he said. "I rather think I am supposed to give a speech, or something. I may not return for a few hours, so please help yourselves to anything in the house. Carlos, would you like to go with them?"

The Cuban seemed surprised at the offer, and after glancing at Michelle for confirmation, nodded politely.

"I would love to, but I should really be getting back. Thank you for your kindness."

Francis looked faintly amused at the younger man's words, but smiled kindly.

"But of course, it is nothing. Cherie, if you and Matthieu would show him to the car, I will be there in only a moment."

Michelle nodded. Once Francis' back was turned, she took his arm, squeezing it slightly. Her face was dusted with a slight blush, and she smiled up at him.

"He likes you."

Carlos rubbed the back of his head nervously. "You think so?"

Michelle nodded. "Yep. You didn't have to be so formal, you know." Her voice almost had it's usual laughter in it.

"Oh. Guess I just tend to fall back on it. My family was kinda old-fashioned like that. Respect to your elders, you get me."

Matthew smiled. "My dad- eh, step-dad, is like that too. He's English, and hard about 'proper'. My brother gets in awful trouble about it."

Carlos raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Your brother sounds like a handful. You said he was more American than Canadian, yeah?"

"M-hmm. And about as typical of it as you could get." Matthew's smile twisted at the thought of what Alfred would say at that. It's not like he'd deny it though he thought. He could almost hear the reply he would get. Heck yeah, bro! 'Merican and proud!

He couldn't help a small chuckle.

Francis chose that moment to return.

"Something funny?" he asked, smiling.

Matthew shook his head. "Just discussing home," he replied. Francis looked at him a little quizzically, but didn't press it, ushering them to the car.

Carlos said goodbye to them both, excusing himself politely. Francis offered to drive him back into town, but he declined, motioning to the road, where he had parked his motorbike.

"Remember, you are welcome any time," Francis said. "If you would like to come over sometime, I am sure Matthieu and Chelle would be more than happy to give you a tour. At the least you must come to dinner soon."

Carlos nodded, his face serious. "Thank you, sir. I would like that."

Francis smiled slightly, almost indulgent, and Matthew held back a grin, knowing that was his way of saying he approved of his relationship with Michelle.

With that, Carlos shook hand with Francis, nodding to both Matthew and Michelle, then left, leaving them to get in the car.

The drive back was largely silent, Matthew and Michelle both simply glad to be away from it all.

Francis drew up to the driveway, leaving the engine running as he went up and unlocked the door, giving the keys to Michelle.

"Remember, anything you want, help yourself. I do not know what time I will be back, so if you would like to order something or cook for yourselves, just go ahead. My phone is on if you need me for anything. Otherwise, I will let you know when I am leaving."

They nodded. "We will."

Francis smiled at them, then turned back to the car. He got in and reversed swiftly, then drove back. They watched his little red car disappear, then turned to go into the house.

Once inside, the two went up to their rooms to change out of their stiff clothes.

Matthew smiled to himself as he made his way up to his room. It was great to see Michelle happy with Carlos, he thought. Still, he couldn't deny the twinge of nerves it gave him, wishing he could have the same. They made it look so easy. Less than a month had passed since they first met, and already it was clear that they were, if not quite fully in love yet, certainly well on the road to it. He could only wish that things would be so simple for him.

Still, that was a thought for another time.

He got changed quickly, feeling far more comfortable once back in his old hoodie and jeans.

He wasn't really comfortable with the suit, although he admitted that Carlos and Michelle had made for a very good couple outside, his smart black blazer and pants matched with her simple dress and flat pumps. She had kept the red ribbons in her hair, saying that their grandmother would have liked for there to be some colour among all the black. Luckily Francis had agreed, and if anyone thought it was inappropriate, they had at least not commented on it.

Once changed, Matthew went down to the kitchen to fix something for lunch. After a few minutes, Michelle joined him, looking far happier to be back in her usual blue dress. They sat at the kitchen table together in companionable quiet, occasionally looking up at each other. Although the service hadn't really been very long, it was still tiring, and they were both content to simply enjoy being in the house by themselves.

Francis returned a little over an hour later, looking tired. He ran a hand through his hair, loosening it from the ponytail he had tied it in.

The two waited until he was in, Michelle handing him a cup of coffee, which he took with a grateful smile.

"Well, I am glad that is all over," he said. His voice was a little rough, his accent thicker with fatigue. He slumped down onto the sofa, seemingly uncaring that he was slouching. Matthew and Michelle took seats on the sofa opposite. They sat in silence, Francis leaning back with his eyes closed.

After a while, he opened his eyes and sat forward, placing the mug down on the table in front of him. He held his arms out, motioning for them to come and sit beside him. They did so, and he wrapped an arm around each of them.

He kissed each of their heads in turn, his hand squeezing slightly on their shoulders.

"I am very glad you are both here," he said, his voice a little thick. Neither of them replied, understanding what he meant. They both snuggled into him, allowing themselves to be comforted by him. They stayed like that for a long time, simply enjoying being with each other. It would likely take a long time before they began to return to normal, but they would get through it, together, as a family.

A/N I apologise for not updating for almost a month. I had a bit of writer's block with this. From here on, I intend things to move a little faster. There will be one more chapter of Matthew in France, and then the action will finally get back to Lovino and everyone at school. Again, I apologise for this taking far longer than I really expected, but although I think of it as a sort of filler, it was necessary for exposition.

I have the ending more or less planned at this point, but I couldn't say how many chapters it will be in total, given that I had no idea I would have enough of an plot to write twenty chapters already. This is by far the longest piece of writing I have ever done, and the first multi-chaptered piece as well. For anyone reading MGL, I will try and update that more frequently as well. I don't have the plot fully down yet, though, so I can't make any promises. If you would really like me to update something, or if you have a request for anything, please review or give me a PM and I will do my best.

As always, thank you very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it, and please consider leaving a review to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism would be very welcome, as I'm still trying to improve my writing and feedback would be extremely useful. If not, favourites and follows always inspire an author to keep going.:)