Hey guys! Kitty29 here with a new chapter of Colours! Whoop!
So mmmm, curses I'm running out of rambles to be had at the start of these things! Dah! Oh well, it's not like most of you guys read it anyway. (...That made me more sad than it should have .-.)

Well, actually, I did think of something! Listening to Hotblack by Oceanship while reading this chapter makes it seem a lot more epic. That is all.

Anyway, please enjoy the new chapter!

It wasn't until the next day were Francis and Arthur allowed to take Matthew back home. He was there longer then he should have because of his head injury, the Doctors wanting to go through the necessary tests to make sure that his bump on the head was just that, a bump on the head. Though as soon as they established that they sent him home. Everyone was elated to have the Canadian back home. The only one who didn't seem happy was Matthew. Then again, Matthew didn't seem happy about much of anything since he left the hospital.

Naturally the married couple were concerned. They had offered to keep the Canadian home from school, thinking that his behaviour might be linked to him being nervous about going back but Matthew declined. Saying he didn't want to miss anymore than necessary. So, not really knowing what to do they allowed him to do what he wanted. Unfortunately what he wanted was to stay locked up in his room and only come out for food and school. Of course this only served to make the parents even more worried.

"What happened to mon petite Mathieu?"

Arthur looked up from his work to find Francis standing at the doorway to his office. Usually he hated being interrupted when he was working but for this he could set his stuff aside. "Matthew is still there," he said with a sigh as he began to put his paperwork away. Francis sighed as well before he crossed his arms as if hugging himself and leaned against the door fame, looking elsewhere with a melancholy expression.

"I know...I know that Mathieu is there but I just..." He paused before he decided to walk further inside the small office. "What should we do Arthur? Should we...maybe...Get him another therapist?"

Arthur shook his head, putting away the last of his paperwork. "No, no Francis. I don't want Matthew confused by two different viewpoints." Plus, he had began to grow fond of Dr. John and getting another therapist would almost seem like...Cheating. "He...He's been through something that we can't even begin to imagine. The most we can do is support him."

Faint distress joined the mixture of emotions that Francis was feeling, only adding to the various lines of age that the British man wasn't accustom to seeing on his husband's face. "So we do nothing," Francis simplified. His eyes began to shine with unshed tears as he released a very shaky breath in a vain attempt to calm himself. "I don't know if I can do that Arthur."

Arthur stood and walked around the desk towards his spouse. "Francis, we—"

He was interrupted by a sharp crashing sound echoing throughout the house, causing both males to looked out the open door. Silence stretched on between the two as they listened intently, their bodies stiff.

"...Was that from the kitchen?" Arthur pondered aloud. Nearly as soon as the words left his mouth the sound was heard again and immediately the two went off towards it. It didn't take long for them to reach the source of the noise and instantly they were able to identify it. Francis reached out and grabbed Arthur's arm in shock when he saw Matthew standing in front of the sink, glass plate raised above his head as if getting ready to throw it to the ground, where evidence of other smashed plates lay.

"Mathieu! What are you doing?"

The horrified shriek of his father caused the Canadian to look up at the two, unintentionally giving them a clearer look at his state. The hand that wasn't grabbing onto the plate, which was thankfully his good hand, was clutching onto the counter as if it was keeping his whole body from collapsing which, with the way he was shaking and how weak he looked in the knees, it may as well have been. Deep bags rested under his eyes, he seemed just a bit paler than usual and his hair was in complete disarray, all signs of lack of sleep. But what bothered the two the most were his eyes. They were open so wide it was almost cartoonish with his pupils so small in comparison that his eyes seemed white. Though he was looking directly at his two parents, it was almost as if he was looking through them rather than at them. In fact, nothing on his face showed that he even registered that it was his parents he was looking at. Rather, it was some random person who had caught him with his hand deep in the cookie jar.

His body froze as he continued to stare at whatever he was looking at, his constant shaking being the only thing showing he was still breathing. The plate he was holding slowly began to slip from his relaxing fingers and within moments it joined it's fallen brethren. Matthew jumped, the loud noise seeming to break him out of whatever trance he was in. He quickly twisted his body so that he could clutch onto the counter with his other hand as well, the cast obviously making his grip hard to obtain. Though as he continued his attempts not once did his eyes leave the people in front of him. Finally, he spoke.

"I...I-I-I-I..." He looked away for the briefest of moments to try and coat his dry throat with saliva, which did nothing but dehydrate him further. He looked in the general direction of the two older males again, his eyes rapidly darting around as if trying to find something that would answer the question for him. In his state he failed to notice the light sweat begin to break out on his forehead.

"I...I...Emotions...I'm trying to control...I thought this might help but it...I-I..." He slumped more of his weight on the counter as his shaking increasing, raising his left injured hand up to his face before he broke into unexpected tears, making both the persons in front of him to jump.

"I-I'm so sorry! I-I tried so hard!" He hiccoughed and the married couple looked to each other, both hoping that the other knew what he was talking about.

Seeing as that provided nothing, Francis began to walk towards his son. "Mathieu, it's okay you can—"

He stopped in his tracks when Matthew all but slammed himself closer against the counter. His crying had abruptly stopped and horror filled his eyes. "DON'T!" He suddenly cried, his voice creaking at the volume before he went on to babble on a quieter tone, "I'm not stable, and I can't control, so you shouldn't come...I could hurt, I mean, Papa I don't want to do it, I don't want to do anything that's why I'm doing this, I...I...!"

"Matthew! Stop!" Arthur suddenly called, worried that the smaller blond was having some kind of panic attack. "Deep breaths, lad. Deep breaths..." He started to make slow, deep breaths as he encouraged the boy to do the same. After a while, Matthew copied, making deep, shaky breaths until his breathing had calmed down.

"Feel better?" Arthur asked, sending a small smile his way. Matthew nodded slowly, though his posture didn't relax in the slightest and his back was still pushed against the counter so close someone may as well had hot glued him to it. Arthur released a very slight laugh before he slowly started to walk closer to the other. "Alright, lad. Now why don't I make us some tea and we can talk about thi—"

Though it seemed as if he got a little too close, for Matthew let out a petrified squeak before trying to press himself closer to the counter. Though seeing that that was impossible, decided to instead make a mad dash to the other side of the kitchen, not seeming to care about the shreds of broken glass that surrounded him. He only turned back to face the two when there was a fair amount of distance between them. "Ar-Arthur! Please! J-Just stay away!" His voice was shaking now and he reached up his right hand to wipe away the unshed tears. "I-I'm unstable! I-I don't want what happened to him to happen to you! I can't be around anyone I...I...!"

A gasp escaped him when two arms suddenly wrapped around his stomach from behind and pulled him into his body. Matthew didn't even have to look behind him to know who it was. He began to trash about wildly. "A-Alfred! Let me go! I-I...! I don't want to hurt you!"

Even through his trashing he could feel his twin lay his head against his back. "You can't hurt me, Mattie," Alfred said in a soft tone, a tone that the Canadian had long forgotten the other could even manage. "I won't let you. Then who would be around to be your hero?"

Matthew stopped trashing at those words and he looked back at the American in shock. Again, he tried to hold back the tears that pricked at his eyes but even so they slipped past his pathetic defences. "He...He said I need to stop relying on others..."

Alfred just pulled him closer to his body, unfazed by his words. "I love you, Mattie."

Matthew's previous tears escalated into full body sobs and he allowed himself to slump against his twin as he brought his hands up to desperately try and wipe the tears away from his face. "I-I l-love you t-t-too!" He managed out before he lost himself to the tears, the parents simply watching the scene from the sidelines uselessly.

The twins stayed like that for a bit before Alfred led them upstairs, leaving the married couple alone yet again. They stayed staring at the place where their sons previously were, both shocked by the events. It was Francis who broke through the silence with a sigh. "I don't think I can take all this," he then went and sat down at the table, placing his head in his hands.

Arthur, not to sure what to do with himself while he was still in a daze, decided grab a broom and start cleaning. Tense silence settled over the two as they were lost in their own thoughts. About fifteen minutes later Francis left the room, only to return with something in hand. Though Arthur didn't notice what he was carrying. He didn't even see his husband walk into the room again. Just as soon as he heard his footsteps he spoke.

"Did you hear what he called me?" He said, stopping in his work. He didn't expect an answer as he continued. "Arthur. He's back to calling me Arthur." In an unexpected show of anger he raised the broom and slammed it to the ground, the reassuring crack of the broom as it bounced lamely off the ground echoing throughout the eerily silent house. Francis was surprised it didn't break.

"Why is it that whenever I take a step forward with the boy something happens to bring us three steps back?" He yelled, not caring who heard it as he slammed his hands on the kitchen island and tried to calm himself with deep breathing. It was working as much as it did with Matthew.

There was silence before the sound of a chair being dragged back was heard. "Arthur, come here."

"I don't want a hug, Francis," Arthur automatically assumed, a bite in his tone.

"I'm not offering you a hug."

At that Arthur turned to look at the Frenchman and found him gazing back at him with a colourless smirk, a bottle of unopened vodka standing proudly on the table before him. For a moment, Arthur could do nothing but stare, not sure if Francis was joking or not. Then, with a smirk of his own, he grabbed two shot glasses—thankfully not among the glass that the young Canadian had destroyed—before he headed towards the other.

"I love you, Francis," he said, earning a hollow laugh from his husband.

"I would hope so, or this marriage would not work, non?" It was a sick attempt at humour, a nervous trait that Alfred had inherited as well. When the Brit was seated across from him Francis opened the bottle and poured shots for both of them. "I forget how many you can have until I have to cut you off."

"Stop me when my words start to slur," the sandy haired man answered before he easily downed the shot, welcoming the burning as it slid down his throat.

It wasn't a big secret to anyone who knew Arthur that he used to have a bit of a drinking problem. Fortunately he managed to stop before it evolved into alcoholism but even so he tried to stay clear of anything stronger than beer unless it was a special occasion.

Francis took the shot as well, shutting his eyes against the burning. He really wasn't big on anything stronger than wine, but this time he would make an exception. "There has to be something more we can do..." He decided to lament as he poured them another shot. "If only one of us had an ability, than maybe he would be more open to us."

"They are closer than you think," Arthur said after he downed the second shot, and almost immediately he regretted it. Dammit, what the hell was he saying? Though Francis didn't seem to notice the deeper meaning to the words. He took the second shot as well, it going down easier this time, before he released a gentle sigh.

"I know Matthew has the people from those groups he goes to but I was talking about something closer, like if one of us had an ability..." He laughed at the thought as he poured another round. "Or maybe we may develop one, non? Feliciano was a late bloomer, was he not?"

Arthur remained silent as he hid behind his third drink, the burning not drowning the raising guilt like he hoped it would. He wasn't exactly sure why it was so hard to just tell his partner of what he could do. It just...was, like telling a parent that you're the one who broke their favourite vase. Now he understood why Matthew danced around it so gracefully for all these years.

"Arthur, is something wrong?"

The mentioned man looked to the concerned Frenchman. Forcing a small laugh, he scrambled for something to say. "No, I'm fine. I'm just starting to feel the effects of..." Though the excuse died on his tongue as the guilt rose in his chest once more. God dammit emotions what were you trying to say? That now was a good time to tell? That he was being selfish for not doing all he could to support the ones he loved? That Francis was so open with him with everything while he locked himself behind closed doors?

...Goddamn bloody fucking guilty emotions.

He slammed down the shot glass harder than he meant to, making the other party present jump.

"Maybe this is enough," Francis concluded, deciding not to have his forth shot. He knew his lame limits.

"That's not it..." Though Arthur made no move to stop the other from screwing the top back on the bottle as he released a sigh to try and mentally prepare himself. "There's...Something I need to tell you, bunny."

Francis' hand stilled at the nickname. Arthur never called him bunny unless he was trying to butter him up for something. Whatever he had to tell him had to be important. He rested his hands on the table in front of him before giving his husband his full attention. "What is it, Arthur?"

Arthur coughed into his fist to clear his throat before he forced himself to make eye contact with the blond. "Well, um...Bunny," two times now, this had to be important. "You know how you said it would be better for Matthew if maybe one of us had an ability?"

Francis nodded, hoping it was the alcohol he felt grabbing onto his chest and not dread.

Arthur couldn't bring himself to look at his husband as he spoke next, "Well...I have one. An ability that is. I had one for...Awhile."

Silence followed the confession, an even more tense silence than when the twins had left the room. Arthur found himself getting increasing nervous as the quiet dragged on, but he couldn't bring himself to look up to see the others reaction. Instead he assured himself that after the silence was over it would be just like when Matthew had revealed his secret, which had ended quite happily. Francis spoke.

"What is it?"

This caused Arthur to look up and he flinched at the harsh look on his partners face. "...I can see things. Creatures...Magical creatures. It's a...Common ability..." He trailed off as Francis let out a humourless bark of a laugh, turning away and shaking his head.

"That would explain a lot!" He said, a amused smile on his face as he continued his deranged laughter. Arthur simply stared, trying to tell himself that the bad feeling raising in his stomach was just from the shots he took.

"Francis w—"

"How long?"

Arthur was taken aback when the laughter abruptly ceased and he was back to staring at him with that harsh look. "P-Pardon?"

"How long did you know you could 'see things?'"

At that Arthur had to think back. Was there even a time when he couldn't see these things? "Since...Since I was just a lad I suppose..."

Francis made a understanding sound in the back of his throat, his brow creasing in slight anger. "And when were you planning to tell me? After you run away with your second husband?"

Arthur was appealed by the others accusation. "What? Francis you're being ridiculous!"

Francis was on his feet now, looking disgusted that he was sitting so close to the Brit in the first place. "Ridiculous? Don't tell me I'm being ridiculous! You're the one who claims you can see fairies!"

Now Arthur found himself standing as well. "Are you saying you don't believe your bleeding husband?"

"Of course I believe you you bumbling moron! I would believe anything you say!" Francis yelled, his accent growing thicker the more angry he grew. "What I do not believe is you not trusting me with such a huge part of who you are!"

Well that shut Arthur up, though Francis was not done.

"You think I wanted to tell you some of the horrible things that happened in my life before we got married? You think I wanted to tell you that at one part of my life I was forced to sleep with strangers to live? I didn't want to tell you any of it! I wanted it to be locked up and never thought about again! But I told you anyway! Why? Because as much as it was a horrible time for me, it's a part of who I am! And I wanted you to know exactly who I was so that this marriage could work!" He didn't bother hiding the sadness in his eyes as he went on, his voice cracking as he spoke, but he didn't care. "Four years, Arthur. Four years may not be a very long time for a marriage but I thought it would be a long enough time for us to stop keeping secrets from each other! I...I don't even feel like I know who you are right now."

Arthur stepped forward, not sure what he should do. "Francis, I—"

"Don't," Francis said quite softly, not sure how long he could hold back the waterworks. All he knew was that he didn't want to cry in front of him. Not now. "I can't deal with all this. I have to go away for a while." He turned on his heel and left, leaving a baffled English man behind. Still in shock, Arthur followed after him.

"Francis—!" He called as he watched the other gathered up his keys and wallet. "Francis I...! You can't drive right now! You've been drinking!"

"I'll take the bus." Came Francis' sharp retort. He went to open the door but paused. He heard Arthur stop just a few feet behind him and he released a shaky sigh. "...Make you sure you check on Mathieu and Alfred in a few hours and leftovers are in the fridge. I'll be back in..." He never finished the end of his sentence as he opened the door and left, leaving the house colder than before.

Arthur couldn't help but stand there and stare at the closed door, his mind still trying to catch up with the events of what just happened. Even before it did, Arthur turned and walked back in the kitchen in a daze. He didn't even try to avoid the stray pieces of broken glass as he made his way back to the table and slumped down in his chair. His eyes wondered down to the still almost full bottle of vodka and he paused for a moment to think.

"Bollocks," he finally said before he pushed aside the shot glass and went straight for the bottle.

I forced myself to listen to sad music the whole time I was writing this. Even so I don't think it really helped that much -shrug-
Ivvvaaann I think you broke Mattiieeee. Make him better, I don't really like writing him saddd. (Though emotionally disturbed is another story.)
The nickname 'bunny' comes from the pet bunny Arthur had when he was young, you know, the one that appears in the anime all the time? (at least I think he had a pet bunny I didn't really research it) So I thought it would be a cute pet name for when they were alone or something, cause all married couple have that sappy part to them or something.

Thank you Leite Destiny, Taffe, Monochrome Cloud, Silvermoon of Forestclan, XxAlysxX, Luna-Discord, luthinuvielle, xxassassinxx18, koosei, fan girl 666, Ayla The Librarianx2(cause that was a total two in one review =D), cutegixie, Randomanime456, Yukai yamix2, Chocola Emo Shizzle, Lately, Axxi, IndulgedByTheRaven, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, Chibi-Foodly-Girl, Glimmyfrost7, TheFirstDarkblood, MistyLovesSesshomaru, HappeDaezx3, SabrinaScissorhands, Sakima Hebi, lilredd3394, AmfibiefiskenLarryx2, FrenchFryLovesYou, curlyfries and Blobers for the reviews! Reviews = SO MUCH LOVE

Thank you for reading!