AU: Hey everyone this is my first fanfic so please be nice. Actually this is a late birthday present for Rachel and I generally love this pairing.

Pairings: Human USUK and others will come as I think of them

Warnings: yaoi, angst, abuse, depression, and immense pity for Arthur

Rating will go up when I feel the story is ready. Constructive criticism welcomed.

Arthur Kirkland

"Ouch,"

I winced as the cold ice pack made contact with yet another bruise. My arms were already properly bandaged, so all that was left were the bloody bruises decorating my waist. Hopefully the swelling will go down before-

"Arthur! Time for you to get down here and get out to leave for school!" Ahh, I can feel your love in absolutely radiating mother.

"Coming!" I yelled back as I put away the ice pack in the mini fridge I had. My room was the second largest one in the house, coming in second to my parent's room. The walls were bare save for a single, small window built in on the far wall. On the left wall was a twin sized bed with a Britain comforter and pillow. On the right there was a mahogany wooden dresser and another door. The door led to the bathroom, which had granite counter tops, a sink, a toilet, a mirror, and a white bathtub; the walls and floor made of tile. I could still remember what my parents had said when they gave me this room.

You should have everything you need in this room so don't bother us for anything. If you need toiletries, soap, first aid kit, or medicine you can buy them yourself. You are not using the stove in this house so eat out or figure it out yourself. If I ever see your face besides when you leave or enter this house, you better have a damn good reason.

"Arthur! What the bloody hell is taking you so long!" I quickly snapped out of my thoughts, can't be left alone with those for too long now. I went over to my bed and said goodbye to my flying mint bunny. As I grabbed my backpack up off the floor, I am proud to say I only winced a bit. Descending the stairs, I headed to the front door. Before opening the door to walk out, I turned towards my mother. She had her back to me and was doing the dishes, cleaning up from a breakfast I have not been able to eat for years.

As had become routine I said, "I'm leaving mom. Have a nice day." True to routine, my mother, as usual, did not answer my well wishes. She did not turn around, did not acknowledge I said anything or give any indication she even heard me. Bloody hell, I would bet she didn't even acknowledge my very presence.

She never noticed me before, so I don't know from where the brief moment of hope came from. Hope that my mother would turn around and speak to me. That she would smile at me like she used to. Hug me while apologizing over and over for all these years, even though she had nothing to apologize for. Hope that I would be able to hear her sweet voice again. That she would sing to me the lullaby she sang to comfort me and my brothers when we got hurt. For just a small moment, as her body shifted, hope that I had long since abandoned came back, if only a small bit.

However, she never turned around, only reached for the plate next to her and turned back to the sink. I could feel the hope I had being mercilessly squashed in just that second. After one more fruitless glance, I turned and left the house.

As I walked to school, I mentally slapped myself repeatedly for being so stupid. For ever believing that I was worthy of mother's compassion and kindness, much less an apology she did not even need to say. She had nothing to be sorry for, it was me who should be on my knees begging her forgiveness for being so worthless. I should be apologizing for ever wanting her love, for being an unfit son.

I am worthless, a piece of trash meant to be used by my family and tossed away when done with. I am nothing more than a punching bag for my brothers and a disgrace to my parents. I do not deserve love or happiness, and I have already come to terms with that. I deserve to be treated as dirt, for being "a creation against God himself" "and unholy psycho". It is my entire fault for being born this way. I am a gay psycho who can see imaginary creatures, after all. I have tried, but failed to make girls appealing to me in any sexual way, and my failure to do that is from my own short comings.

Unholy.

I have also tried to stop seeing the imaginary creatures too, going to all the best psychiatrists, but it was all in vain. The creatures would not leave me alone no matter what I did, so I gave up on pushing them away. They became my friends and kept me sane, especially flying mint bunny. The bloke could tell the best jokes sometimes. Even so, it's my own weakness and fear of loneliness that really makes them stay.

Psycho.

I am a tainted, dirty, crazy, unholy, and broken. No, not completely broken yet, but almost. Soon enough I will be useless to my family. I will become similar to a toy that has been broken, a doll who has lost all its' luster from years of neglect. I was already heading there, and there was not anything anyone could do to stop it.

"And I deserve it all, every last bit of everything happening to me," I muttered as I stepped through my school's front doors. As I walked, I put on an indifferent mask to hide my depressed expression, completely oblivious to the pair of eyes watching me as I headed to my first class of the day.

Arthur: Wait! Who is the git practically stalking me?

Author: You'll find out later, but if you have any complaints I could make it Francis~

Arthur: OH GOD NO YOU- *muffled screams as Arthur is gagged*

Author: So, will Arthur complain? Reviews make me happy!

Okay I am adding this in. I have absolutely NO idea how to continue this story AT ALL. Nor if anyone even WANTS it continued. If you do then I need ideas cause I honestly don't know where to take this story anymore. I have a major writers block for this story so if anyone had ANY ideas TELL ME PLEASE and I will work off of that. Thanks.