"Alfred, don't be naughty."

A phrase Alfred's heard often during his childhood. Whenever he leaves messes,

("Alfred,")

Or eats too much at dinner,

("Don't be naughty!")

Or talks back to Dad,

("Do I need to discipline you?")

Or doesn't do his homework,

("Why do you refuse to learn?")

Or sometimes when he's not doing anything at all.

(Alfred, haven't I told you?")

Alfred's heard that phrase too often in his childhood. Eventually, he begins to wonder if he's actually been naughty at all. Maybe Dad just made a mistake? Alfred hadn't even been doing anything! But telling Dad that was also "naughty".

("Fetch my my belt. NOW.")

But it wasn't Dad's fault, he always told Alfred so ("I'm trying so hard, Alfred. Why won't you just listen?") and besides, Dad loves Alfred, he always says it when he picks Alfred up from school, or when the other parents are around, so it's not like Dad is just hurting him for no reason. If Alfred could just learn-

(Dad does love him, right?)

Alfred doesn't learn until much, much later.

He's at a friend's house, and Mathew is groaning into his hands as his dad enthusiastically tells stories about when he was younger.

"Mathew was such a troublemaker back then!" Francis laughs, "Though you wouldn't believe me looking at him now!"

"Papa!" Mathew gripes, looking like he wishes the floor would swallow him up.

"Well, it's true!" Francis defends, "You were so naughty as a child! I always had to discipline you!"

And something inside that Alfred didn't even know he was holding back breaks down in relief.

(It is normal, Dad really was just disciplining him for being naughty, Alfred was wrong the whole time!)

He could have laughed with relief, but for some reason, he doesn't feel like he wants to. He feels something sticky and heavy in his chest, but Alfred pretends it isn't there. (Crying is naughty, after all.) He leans forwards into the conversation, eager to share now that he knows he can.

"Oh! I was naughty all the time too! Dad was always discipling me!"

Mathew, probably eager to get the attention off him, latches onto this chance. "Like what?"

Alfred thinks.

"Oh, well there was this time, back when I was like five or six or something, when I fell, and I scraped my knee up real bad, but I wouldn't stop crying and it really was my fault because if I hadn't been running, I wouldnt have fallen, but anyways, Dad had to send me to my room and I couldn't have dinner that night."

Mathew stares, and Francis stills.

"What?"

Alfred grins. He must be doing something right, they're shocked and surprised at his stories, and Alfred's pretty sure that's how it's supposed to go.

(It probably doesn't matter that they're not laughing, the story was pretty boring.)

"Or!" Alfred tries to think of a better story, "One time I asked for seconds at dinner - I was really greedy back then - and so Dad Disciplined me, right, but afterwards my legs were so weak I fainted!" He laughs at his own story, feeling foolish for feeling so wronged at the time. "I was so hurt when I got in trouble for fainting! I used to think all my tantrums were justified, though." Alfred quickly adds to his story, so they don't think he's complaining. Complaining is being naughty.

("Alfred, Dont be naughty!" )

Mathew and Francis still aren't laughing, and Alfred's grin fades. He must have done it wrong, somehow, and messed it up. He shifts, uneasily.

"Sorry, I'm not good at stories."

Mathew speaks up, sounding bewildered. "You fainting was a tantrum?"

(oh, he is doing it right, they were just shocked at how bad he used to be.)

Alfred brightens. "Oh, yeah! I used to faint all the time when I didn't like Dad's punishments." Somehow, their silence makes him feel embarrassed, and he hurries to assure them, "I don't do that anymore! Besides, I'm better now! I almost never need to get disciplined, anymore!"

(Somehow he gets the feeling he isn't helping his case.)

"Your father disciplined you until you fainted?" Francis speaks, his tone carefully neutral.

Alfred stills. He's seen this look before. This is the look he gets when he's lied to someone (he's never meant to-) and lying is being naughty. Alfred feels cold. If Dad finds out he's lied-

("Alfred! After all I've done! So it's my fault that you're naughty? It's my fault?)

Alfred feels cold. "I-it's not like that! It wasn't his fault! I was just being naughty!" He's stuttered. He's not supposed to do that.

("Don't be naughty.")

Mathew is looking uncomfortable, for some reason, shifting in his seat with wide eyes (he must have realized Alfred lied, he knows Alfred is naughty-) And Francis leans forwards, toward's Alfred, a hard line in his voice.

"How exactly does your father punish you, Alfred?"

Alfred chokes. (He's not allowed to tell people that.) His breath starts coming shorter, and his eyes burn. (He needs to fix it, he needs to breathe properly, he's not allowed to breathe like that-)

( "Alfred, don't be naughty." )

(He's trying not to.)

Francis reaches out a hand and places it on Alfred's knee, and Alfred jerks.

(He shouldn't have done that!)

("Don't be naughty!")

(Dad is going to find out, Alfred's going to get disciplined again!)

"Al?" Mathew sounds scared, and Francis waves him off when he tries to approach, and there's a look in his eyes Alfred doesn't recognize -

(He's disappointed in me, isn't he? Because I'm still acting like a Child, I should be better-)

("Don't be naughty!")

"Alfred," Francis speaks slowly, in a low and calm voice, "It's okay. Breathe."

(He's trying!)

Alfred takes a deep, shuddering breath. His fingers are shaking too, he notes.

(Why can't he just be good?)

"Breathe." Francis reminds him, and slowly, and ever-so-gently, he begins to tap Alfred's knee. "Follow the taps. In when I touch you, out when I lift."

Alfred tries.

(Dad will be so mad when he finds out.)

A tear falls and splatters on Francis's gentle hand, and Alfred flinched again.

(He's so, so screwed.)

("Don't be naughty!")

"I-I'm sorry." (he can't even keep the quiver out of his voice, he just keeps messing up) "I'm s-sorry."

Francis flinches too, just slightly. "It's okay, you have nothing to apologize for."

(that can't be right, he knows he's being naughty right now, and Dad's Always said-)

("Alfred! Don't be naughty!")

"I-I'm not being naughty!"

The words slip out before he realizes, he didn't mean to! (He's trying, so hard to get control of himself, why can't he do it?) And Francis looks back at him, somehow from below, (Why is he on the floor? Father's aren't supposed to be below their kids they're supposed to tower over them-) and his face looks so unbelievably soft through Alfred's wet eyes, and the blurryness almost makes it seem like Francis is about to cry too-

"No," Francis says gently, "You're not."

(What?)

"You're not being naughty at all, Alfred. It's okay."

( That can't be right, Alfred's always naughty,)

(No one's ever told him this before.)

(He must be being naughty, Dad's always told him he is-)

"You're not being naughty at all." France repeats firmly, and his hands twitch like he wants to hold Alfred's hands, but is holding back.

(-but what if -?)

"Al, you didn't do anything wrong at all."

Somewhere out of Alfred's sight, Mathew reaffirms his Dad's words, and something in Alfred, a last little thing he didn't even know existed, breaks.

Alfred sobs.

(And maybe it's okay, just this once. Dad's not here, after all.)

And when Alfred's done crying, nothing happens.

Francis doesn't punish him.

("I've told you, time and time again, not to cry!")

There's no belt, or cane, or holding a wet cloth over his face so he can't breathe or tying him to a bed post so he can't leave his room -

("Maybe this time you'll learn your lesson!")

There's not even any hitting, or yelling, or anything.

It's just Mathew, lightly rubbing his back with awkward hands, like he doesn't know what to do with himself, (it doesn't even hurt) and Francis, patiently offering him tissues to wipe his face, (he doesn't even use a wet cloth) and Alfred, slowly beginning to breath again, and the swirly ache in his head.

(No one tries to discipline him at all.)

And when Francis tries to ask him more questions, more gently, more "you don't have to answer if you don't want to"s and more "No matter what, I promise I won't get mad"s, Alfred almost isn't scared to answer.

"I'm not - I'm not supposed to tell anyone." He tries to explain, stilted. "It's naughty."

(So why does he want to?)

Francis let's out a long, slow breath like he's trying to steady something in himself.

"In my house," He says finally, after taking a moment to carefully pick his words, "Naughty means something else. And we don't ever hurt anyone, even if they're naughty."

"He's right!" Mathew chimes in, still nervous, (but he's not nervous for himself, is he? Then why is he nervous?) "The worst that's ever happened is I get sent to the corner for a half hour, most! Or he takes away my phone until I do my homework, or clean up!"

(But those aren't even punishments! Those aren't discipline!)

(And even if they're telling the truth-)

("You've been very naughty, Alfred.")

Alfred swallows hard, like the lump in his throat is his Dad's rules he can't choke down. Francis seems to understand.

"Alfred, no matter what you tell me in this house, I swear your father will never hear of it. It will be our secret. I swear."

(Dad won't know?)

"He can't find out."

(Alfred's being very naughty right now, he knows it.)

"Never." Mathew and Francis promise in unison, and their overlapping voices sounds like hope to Alfred. He swallows again, and tries to choke past his fears.

(He knows, but-)

So Alfred tells them everything.

Mathew stumbles away partway through and vomits into the toilet.

And when he's done, Francis moves oh-so-slowly, like he's afraid Alfred will crumble into dust if he moves too quickly, and takes Alfred's hands, gentle and limp. (He's not restraining Alfred, not holding him down, or pouring hot water on his hands, or hurting him at all. He's just... Touching.)

(It feels nice.)

"Alfred," Francis says very seriously, "what your father did was wrong."

(That's talking back! It's being naughty!)

"You weren't being naughty, Alfred." Francis continues so firmly, like he needs Alfred to understand. "It was wrong, Alfred. What you father did - that's abuse."

"That's lying!" Alfred yelps before he thinks it through. "You can't say that! It's being naughty! Dad-"

He stops when Francis shakes his head, slightly, barely enough to make his hair shift with the motion, but enough to cause Alfred's shoulders to tense anyways.

"No, it's not lying. It's the truth."

"But-"

(Dad wouldn't lie to him.)

"Your father just told you that, punished you for that, so you wouldn't tell anyone, because he knows he's doing something bad, Alfred."

(Would he?)

And Alfred remembers so many times he's had doubts.

("Dad? The other kids said that its wierd that I get in trouble for crying. Kiku said his mom doesnt yell at him for crying, and Ivan said -")

(He remembers the discipline he'd gotten that day. He'd been grounded for a week.)

(He wasn't allowed to talk to his friends again after that.)

Alfred remembers the times he just couldn't figure out what he did wrong.

("Dad! Please! I didn't do anything, I swear! I was just standing still! I didn't even breathe too loud, I promise!")

(Alfred had gotten gagged for backtalking, when the discipline for his first crime was done.)

Alfred remembered the last time he'd broken Dad's rules, when he'd been naughty and lied.

(Social services came. When Dad saw them at the door, he gripped Alfred's arm, hard.)

("Go clean up, now. If they find even a single thing out of place-)

(Alfred cleaned up everything, from the cane to the ropes to the dog collar and chains.)

He remembered the last time he'd tried to tell someone.

( "I'm not naughty! I didn't even do anything! Dad's always mad at me... Even if I just breathe." )

(Alfred hadn't had any bruises on him, Dad was more careful with those since Mathew started middle school.)

("I think he's going through a rebellious period." Dad had sighed. "I've done everything I can, I've never been excessive, but this child thinks grounding him is child abuse. I don't know what to do anymore.")

And in the end, Social Services believed his Dad, and even told Alfred off.

("It's dangerous to tell lies like this, kid. You could have been taken away from you Dad, forever, and then you would never see him again. Is that what you want?")

(Alfred loved his Dad.)

(He apologises.)

After that, Dad had taught him never to lie again.

(But Alfred lied anyways.)

"You never did anything wrong, Alfred." Francis's hands are warm on his own. "It was never your fault."

(Alfred lied, and Francis believed him.)

Alfred's hands are shaking, cold even under the warmth of Francis's hands.

"Dad wouldn't lie," Alfred objects, his voice small, "He loves me."

(He wonders why his voice breaks when he says that.)

And Francis does something naughty.

Tears start rolling down his face, big wet tears that can't be held back anymore, and Alfred feels frozen as the grown man kneeling before him breaks down in a tantrum even Alfred hadn't thrown since he was a toddler.

(But he feels like it's not a tantrum at all, like maybe it's just all the hurt inside trying to come out.)

(He feels like he's always known that, somewhere inside.)

And Mathew reaches for his father (when did he get back?) , his own face still palid and ill, and Francis catches him, and Alfred watches, transfixed as the Son melts into his Dad's embrace.

(it looks... Comfortable.)

(Alfred's Dad has never hugged him.)

Something sick and cruel raises its head in Alfred's chest, a feeling he knows well. Jealously.

(He shouldn't because he knows, somehow, even without being told, that it's naughty, but Alfred wants to be a part of that too. He wonders what a hug feels like.)

And Francis calms his tears enough to help Mathew calm his own, hiccups instead of raking sobs, and after a brief break of blowing runny noses and wiping tears away with sleeves, the pair remembers Alfred. Mathew moves first, stitled and unsure, rising up to open his arms to Alfred.

(Alfred's never been hugged by a friend, either.)

(He wants to be.)

Awkwardly, more awkward then should be possible for a human, Alfred scooches forwards on the couch, till he's sitting on the edge and leaning in - (should it feel this terrifying? What if he's doing it wrong?) - and Mathew half-stumbles, half-sinks to catch Alfred properly in a hug, and (it's so warm and it doesn't feel scary at all-)

(is he doing it right? He's supposed to do something with his arms, right?)

Alfred timidly reaches up and grabs fistful of Mathew's sweater, unsure of where to grab (he doesn't want to hurt Mathew! Mathew's his only friend!) and someone else joins in, long arms trying to stretch enough to pull both boys in, the smell of a familiar cologne and the edges of Francis's hair tickling his neck and Alfred let's out a little half-gasp, but not for fear, exactly. It something else, something new.

(So that's what a father's hug feels like.)

Alfred doesn't go home again.

Francis promises there will be no more "discipline" in his house, he promises that Dad will never touch Alfred ever again.

(so Alfred stays.)

The social workers come again, for the first time since he was ten. Unlike six years ago, Alfred knows what his answer is when they talk to him.

(he loves his Dad, more than life himself. But Alfred can't see him ever again.)

(he's scared of what the discipline would be for misbehaviour of this level.)

(Dad hates when he's naughty.)

There's a social worker there, one he recognizes. The same one who told Alfred off the last time he lied. (No, it wasn't lying. Alfred had told the truth. He had always told the truth. Dad was the one who lied.) Alfred wasn't home to "clean up" this time. And now everyone knows about Dad's discipline.

Everyone knows how naughty Alfred is.

But Francis is looking distraught and invested across the room as he speaks to police officers and the other social worker. ("How could you not know? You should have investigated!") And Mathew is hovering around the edges of the doorframe, clearly wanting to enter, but held at bay by the police. This time, the social workers won't let anyone influence Alfred's answers when the question him. Alfred swallows past his shame, and looks the social worker directly in his face.

"Please take me away forever." (His voice shouldn't sound so small, he's not a child anymore!) "I don't want Dad to see me ever again."

Its not the same question they'd asked him before, not the right answer to that question.

(Alfred loves his Dad.)

Alfred can't ever see his dad again.

(Because Dad doesn't love Alfred back.)

It takes a long time, several court cases that nearly cause Alfred to break, his Dad's own words causing him to doubt himself ("I've given everything for that boy, I fed him, I clothes him, I raised him. I taught him right from wrong. And this is how he replays me?" A sigh. "I guess I failed as father in the end after all.") And lots and lots of Francis and Mathew assuring him he was right, and it wasn't his fault, and that Alfred's not being naughty by standing on that witness stand, and a long, long time after that for Alfred to finally learn what being naughty isn't.

(Alfred drops a plate, once.)

("Shh, Alfred it's okay. You didn't mean to drop it, it's just an accident.")

He learns "accidents" aren't "naughty".

("Papa, can you get me some more while you're up?")

(Mathew asks for more food. And he doesn't even get hurt.)

He learns eating until you are full isn't "greedy".

(Francis has a bad day once, and storms into the house, slamming the door behind him.)

(Alfred drops to the floor, curling into a protective position, and apologizes for anything he possible can.)

("I'm sorry, I didn't mean to breathe too much, I'll be better next time! I'm sorry, Dad, please-")

Alfred learns "breathing too much" isn't even a thing, and that he really had been doing nothing wrong when Dad had disciplined him for it.

(Francis tries not to slam the door or stomp again.)

Most importantly, he learns that his Dad's "discipline" was very, very wrong, and wasn't discipline at all.

(He doesn't learn what real discipline is, Alfred's much too scared, much too well trained, to make a mistake big enough for that.)

Eventually, Alfred learns to live.

(he learns that love doesn't hurt.)

It takes a long time to reconcile, though, even when he's an adult, he still wakes up with Dad's sharp tone in his ears.

("Don't be naughty!")

But Alfred isn't naughty. He's just a person.

(And Mathew and Francis love him more that his Dad ever did.)

And Dad can never hurt him again.

(His new family will never let that happen.)

Alfred rolls over and goes back to sleep, lips twitching with a smile as he remembers new, painless memories he's made. A picnic, his first birthday party (they'd been sad, but not shocked, when Alfred didn't know his own birthday) and going to the beach and so many other fun things. Alfred doesn't need to be afraid anymore.

(Maybe Dad had been the naughty one the whole time.)

End.