"Let me see him!"

"No, Francis! Leave! You're not welcome here!"

"I'm not leaving until I get to see him!"

"Let go of the door and don't come back you git!"

"Let me see my son!"

"He doesn't want to see you!"

"I don't believe you!"

"P-papa?"

The small voice halted the shouting and two startled blondes turned to look at the child standing behind them, Francis with his foot wedged in the door, hands attempting to pry it open, and Arthur pulling forcefully on the handle, trying to kick Francis' foot out of the way so he could shut the door firmly. They both froze, looking over at the scared child, peering at them behind glasses that were just slightly too big for his face. When his eyes locked with Francis', his face immediately brightened and he took a couple of steps forward.

"Papa, you came to see me!"

He said softly, excitedly.

Francis' voice cracked and he held back tears.

"Yes, yes my angel I did. I did!" He said desperately, trying to push open the door again.

"Matthew go back to your room this instant!"

"But…Papa is here…"

"I said go to your room now!"

Matthew jumped and his bottom lip quivered. He took a step back but stood looking from Arthur to Francis, hands squeezed together nervously.

"Arthur you can't do this, he wants to see me! You can't keep him from me! Alfred hates me, fine! But Mattie wants to see me! You're not being fair to Matthew!"

"Shut up Francis and leave! Matthew, go to your room!"

"N-no..I want to see Papa…" He said softly, his little body starting to tremble.

"Matthew do what I say!" Arthur hissed, desperately trying to get the boy, who had never said no before in his life, to do what he wanted him to do.

"But I want to see Papa! He came all this way to see me I want to talk to him!"

"Move out of the way Arthur. You're only hurting him!" Francis lowered his voice, trying to plead with Arthur.

This entire situation had been hard on all of them. Realizing that you were no longer in love with the man you'd started raising two children with was difficult. Him still being in love with you, and being forced to break his heart like that, was terrible. But him being so angry with you that he kicked you out and took both of the children, well that was impossible.

Alfred had always preferred Arthur that much was obvious. He would believe anything the Brit would tell him, and so it hadn't been difficult for Arthur to brainwash Alfred into hating Francis. But Matthew had always loved Francis. Since the day they brought him home, Matthew had clung to Francis' hand. He had been the only one out of the two that had been interested in learning French, and he had picked it up so well. He was practically a sweeter, more innocent miniature of Francis, and the Frenchman was only too proud of his sweet little angel. So when Arthur, out of spite, wrenched Matthew out of his arms and took him away, Francis went nearly insane, badgering Arthur every chance he got, doing everything in his power to get one damn visitation with the child. But Arthur was stubborn. He was more concerned about getting back at Francis than he was about how Matthew felt.

And now, it seemed, Matthew was finally fighting back.

"Don't talk back to me young man!" Arthur hollered, pointing up the stairs. "Do as I said this instant!"

Matthew's bottom lip quivered and he stomped his foot angrily, fresh tears cascading down his cheeks.

"It's not fair! I want my Papa! I hate you! I want my Papa!"

"MATTHEW!"

The little boy broke down sobbing and stormed up stairs out of sight, and Francis let out a choked sob as he watched him go.

He deflated, leaning against the door heavily and choking back tears, pressing his fingers up to his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Arthur please. Just let me see him." He said weakly.

"You need to leave now Francis." Arthur said coldly, finally pushing Francis off the door and pulling it closed. Francis stood there, looking dejected, flinching when he heard the lock click into place.

It wasn't fair. He couldn't do this to him, he just couldn't. Arthur could hurt him in any other way, Francis didn't care, but taking away his son…that was cruel.

He turned away from the door and stumbled to the steps of the porch, falling on his ass on the bottom step, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands as he broke down and cried.

He didn't know how much longer he could keep showing up here, banging on the door, begging to see his baby boy. It was too much. Too painful. For him and Matthew. He thought maybe it would be better if he never came back. It hurt him to think like that, but what else could he do? Arthur wasn't giving in and Matthew was still too young to have his own say in the matter. Arthur had too much control.

He sat there for 10 minutes, crying himself numb. He was so exhausted he didn't hear the lock click back or the door squeak open. He did, however, hear the small, excited voice and the little footsteps pounding towards him.

"Papa!" His head jerked up and he looked behind him, right as a little body crashed into him, arms wrapping around his neck, little blonde head burying into his shoulder. He was so shocked that he didn't move for a second, his eyes frozen on Arthur's figure, grimacing at him from the open door, Matthew's little polar bear backpack dangling in his hand.

"Matthew, come get your bag." He said gently, and the little boy detached himself from Francis, dashing back over to Arthur and reaching for the bag, pulling it on quickly and wrapping his arms around Arthur's leg in a quick hug. Francis stood, staring at Arthur dumbstruck, his mind not processing what was going on.

"Have him back by bed time tomorrow. We'll discuss a visitation schedule later." Francis nodded dumbly, jaw slack with surprise. Was he hearing this right? And then his focus was back on the little boy rushing back towards him, arms open, a smile on his tear stained face.

"Papa, papa!" He cried excitedly, leaping into Francis' arms. The Frenchman lifted Matthew into a tight hug, holding the precious child close to him, one arm supporting under his bottom, the other he placed gently on the back of Matthew's head, relishing the feel of the soft locks under his fingers. Oh how he had missed playing with the little blonde curls, and the way the boy smelled of maple syrup, and how light and cute he was for his age. He had missed the sound of Matthew's voice, the sound of his laughter, even the sound of his tears. He closed his eyes and rocked Matthew from side to side slowly, unable to speak. He didn't need to speak he supposed. Just to hold him as long as he could, because he didn't know when he would have the opportunity to do it next.

After a while, Matthew pulled back to look at Francis, crying and smiling at the same time.

"I missed you Papa!" he said cheerfully, and Francis choked back a sob.

"I missed you too, mon petit ange. I missed you more than the ocean misses the moon when the sun rises." He said softly. Matthew threw himself back onto Francis' shoulder, breathing in the smell of his Papa, and Francis looked back to the door.

It was closed, Arthur gone from sight, but Francis mouthed a thank you and turned from the door, carrying his little boy towards his car.

"What do you want to do first Mattie?" He asked gently.

"I don't care, as long as I get to do it with you!"

Mattie said softly, and Francis prayed that this day would never end.

Arthur watched from the window, acknowledging Francis' whispered thanks. It irritated him to no end how attached Matthew was. He wanted nothing more than to crush Francis into dust for what he had done. But he loved Matthew too. Granted, they weren't as close as he and Alfred, but he was still Arthur's child, and he couldn't bear to see the usually happy and quiet little child so upset. He wanted the boy to be happy, even if it meant making Francis happy in the process.

And Besides…

"Why is Matthew spending the night with the dirty frog?" Alfred quipped, strolling into the room with chocolate ice cream smeared on his chin. Arthur turned to the boy, a gentle smile over his lips and he kneeled down, licking his thumb and wiping the chocolate from his son's face.

"We shouldn't speak of Mr. Francis like that. I only say it out of anger, and that doesn't make it ok. Matthew wants to spend time with him, so we have to respect that. You understand?"

Alfred frowned, nodding slightly.

"Yeah, I guess so…but I don't understand it really…"

"What part don't you understand?"

"Why Mattie would want to spend time with Mr. Francis and not spend all of his time with you! You're like way better than the Frenchie…" He said, pouting. Arthur chuckled and stood, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "Let's not worry about that. What do you say we go play a game?"

"Oh boy I love games!"

He couldn't imagine what he would do if someone tried to take his beloved Alfred away from him like that. He just wouldn't be able to bear it.