Amelia...

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Francis's eyes went wide, and an audible gasp of horror was heard. Arthur tried to ignore the dread pooling in his stomach as he rubbed sunscreen on his son's back, feeling the raised canvas of scars beneath his fingers. He finished applying it and handed Alfred his swim goggles, turning around to face Francis. Before he could complete the turn however, his wrist was grabbed and he was dragged into a small study. The Englishman yelped in surprise but was quickly shushed by a set of intense sapphire orbs staring deep into his own emerald ones.

"What 'appened mon amour?" Francis gently questioned, placing his hands on Arthur's shoulders.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Arthur firmly responded. The Frenchman's gaze never faltered, and Arthur felt the walls he had constructed begin to crumble. "I-I-I..." Arthur stammered, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. "Don't..." he swallowed heavily, his throat beginning to close up. "Know..." He croaked. He began to sob quietly, his eyes never leaving Francis's. The dam holding the flood of emotions broke loose, tears began to flow freely from his eyes, and he let out a single, heartbroken wail. Francis pulled the other man close, rubbing his back soothingly while Arthur buried his head in the other's chest, beginning to tell the story.

Flashback

Amelia E. Jones sat in the driver's seat of her bright red car, her four year old son napping in the backseat.

"Are you sure you'll be alright driving love?" Her husband, Arthur Kirkland, questioned over the speaker system in her car. "It is dark and the roads are fairly slippery."

"Oh Artie you're acting as if it's my first time driving a car. Really honey don't worry i'll be fine. Stop being such a worrier." She responded, adjusting her mirror and checking that Alfred was buckled in properly.

"I can't help but worry darling it's my job. I am, after all, your husband."

She rolled her eyes, clipping back her hair with a star shaped barrette. They chatted for a bit as she drove onto the highway. Traffic was light, and she was approaching their house fast.

"When will you and Alfred be home?" Arthur fretted, pacing the house. He always worried about Amelia when she drove, and the conditions today certainly didn't help with his anxiety.

"I'm five minutes away dear I just have to get off of the highwaaaaa!" The last word turned into a shriek as a drunk driver plowed into her side of the car, sending her through the guardrail and down the side of a small cliff.

"AMELIA!" Arthur shouted, hearing her's and Alfred's screams through the phone. He grabbed his car keys and drove like a madman to where his phone's tracker said she was. When he arrived, a crowd of paramedics and cop cars were already at the scene. He shoved through the crowd, ignoring any attempts to restrain him, and ran to where a small body was lying, surrounded by paramedics. "Alfred!" He yelled, rushing to his son's side. The person helping him turned the half conscious boy onto his stomach, and Arthur's stomach dropped at the sight that greeted him. Alfred's back was horribly cut up and bleeding freely, shards of glass embedded in his skin. The paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher, and Alfred stirred, a whimper of pain escaping his lips.

"D-daddy?" he asked, opening his blue eyes, two gems shining bright against a sea of cuts and dirt.

"Daddy's here." Arthur answered, gripping his son's hand reassuringly despite the paramedic telling him repeatedly to release it.

"Wh-where's mommy?" Alfred croaked out, his grip going limp as unconsciousness claimed him again.

Arthur's blood ran cold. Amelia

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