Nightmares

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(A/N all that is being spoken between Francis and Matthew in the following chapter is in french i'm just extremely lazy and don't feel like translating)

While Arthur was going through the papers in his office, Francis was lying awake, unable to sleep.

The Frenchman tossed and turned in his king sized bed, now all alone. In the privacy of his own home, he let the tears that could not be shown to others fall. Francis sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands, body shaking with silent sobs.

Why?! What have I done to deserve this?! I gave everything to that woman. I moved away from my beloved homeland to be with her. I left my family, my job, my friends, all for her happiness. I was always faithful, poured my heart and soul into that relationship. I try hard to be a good father to Matthieu, I really do. Did I say anything when she said that the spark was fading? Non. L'amour runs its course after all. I gave even more, if that is possible, to make it work, to rekindle the fires of romance. And she took all the love I gave her, and stabbed me in my heart. Now she wants to take my precious away, and for that I will not stand.

At that Francis got up, pacing the room in agitation, hands pulling at his long, honey colored hair.

Emillise, do whatever you want to me. But if you even try to take Matthieu away, consider yourself dead.

He took his phone off of his bedstand and checked it, hoping for news about the case. Just as he sighed in defeat and was about to turn off the phone, it vibrated, startling him.

"Shit!" he hissed, and checked his email. His annoyance at being startled quickly disappeared when he read it, and he wasted no time typing a reply.

Francis got back into bed, wiping away the tears so they would not be seen tomorrow. Nobody must know how much her betrayal had hurt him. The soft padding of footsteps reached his ears, and he rolled over, facing the entrance to the bedroom. The heavy oak door creaked open, and a light poke to the side caused Francis to open his eyes. A little figure in red and white pyjamas clutching a stuffed polar bear half his size stood there, cheeks streaked with tears.

"P-p-papa?" a soft voice stuttered. "Can I sleep with you tonight? I'm scared."

"Of course Matthieu." Francis answered, shifting and pulling away the covers to make room for the child. Matthew crawled in and burrowed into Francis's side, still scared from his earlier nightmare. Francis stroked the child's soft hair to calm him down, slowly bringing him closer to sleep.

"Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"Will people try take me away from you and make me live with maman?"

"They can try all they want, but you are staying here with me." Francis responded firmly, no trace of the doubt he felt in his voice. Matthew relaxed, curling up and clutching the polar bear, along with Francis's arm, tightly.

"Good." he whispered, voice tinged with sleep. "I want to stay here with you. I love you Papa."

"I love you too, Matthieu. My wonderful boy." 

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