Dinner had taken on a few different shapes in the Kirkland residence over the past year. It had gone from lovingly prepared family meals to crudely made dinners. Then, in the past couple days; it had shifted back into the realm of fine cuisine.

Without a doubt, Arthur was grateful for Francis's skill. His cooking was amongst the most exquisite he'd tasted, and he was sure the twins felt the same. Then again, he was fairly certain Alfred and Matthew would prefer practically anything over his own cooking.

The boys would barely touch their food whenever he cooked, but were quick to scarf down Francis's dishes. Alfred had even been so bold as to ask for seconds last night.

It, therefore, spoke volumes to Arthur as he watched his sons pick at their suppers that Monday night. His eyebrows knit. Alfred had gotten into fights at school before. It wasn't as if this was the first black mark on his record… However, it was the first fight he'd been in since his mother's death.

Arthur could only imagine how confused the boys were. Yvette had always been there when something went wrong. With tenderness only a mother could display, she'd bandaged every cut. She'd soothed their fears with her melodic voice during every family discussion, knowing just the right words to add to the end of his own scolding.

Arthur sighed inwardly.

The sooner they sorted this out, the better. He took no pleasure in seeing his sons look so miserable.

After the table had been cleared, and before Alfred could attempt to retreat into the shelter of his room, Arthur strode over to the boy and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Alfred, I'm sure you're well aware, but we need to have a little chat about your behavior today." The Englishman said, voice calm and steady.

Alfred withered slightly under his father's grasp, but nodded, "Yeah, I know."

Bracing himself for the reprimand he was about to receive, the typically energetic Alfred permitted his father to steer him down the hall into his study. Something about the study always felt forbidden. It was where Arthur toiled from when he brought work home with him, and it was usually kept locked when he was away.

Arthur resituated a wooden chair from the corner of the room so it sat facing his workspace. "This way, we can talk in private." He thought to himself calmly. The words he spoke would pass between him and Alfred, and perhaps the boy wouldn't be as liable to become distracted by his surroundings.

The only time Alfred or Matthew really found themselves in the study for a substantial amount of time was if they'd done something wrong. And as Arthur took a seat behind his mahogany desk, Alfred could only marvel how he reminded him of the school principal just hours earlier.

"Sit down, Alfred." Arthur beckoned firmly.

"Well, I guess here it comes. I guess we'll find out if Uncle Francis was able to keep him from getting too mad." Alfred thought absently as he slid into the chair.

Arthur let loose a lengthy sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and scanned Alfred with his emerald eyes, "What you did today was very dangerous, you know."

"Not really. The kid only got a bloody nose, and I saved Mr. Kumajiro for Matty." Alfred replied, crossing his arms as a streak of defiance shined in his blue eyes.

"That's not the point here, Alfred." Arthur's voice rose a degree, "You know better than to get into fights like this. What if you or the other boy had gotten seriously hurt?"

"That wouldn't have happened." Alfred replied defensively. His father was starting to sound like Matthew… Why couldn't they both just understand everything was okay?

"Oh?" Arthur quirked an eyebrow, "You seem to forget that you're not indestructible. Just because you're strong it doesn't make it okay to hit others, especially in sensitive areas such as the head."

"Matty needed my help!" Alfred protested, barely resisting the urge to leap out of his chair.

"Yes, but did he also need to watch his brother locked in some merciless playground brawl?" The Englishman spoke coolly.

"No, but I only did it because-"

"Or did Matthew need to panic about if you were going to make it out of the fight alright?" Arthur cut his son off. "I wouldn't be surprised if he blames himself for your impulsiveness. You likely scared him half to death."

Alfred fell silent as his father's words sunk in.

Panic?

Fear?

Was this what Mathew had been trying to tell him? What Francis had been trying to imply?

He'd known Matthew was blaming himself, but he hadn't understood why. Was he really that scared? It wasn't as if he'd been too badly hurt. After speaking with the principal, he'd been sent straight to the nurse's office…

Oh, but Matthew hadn't known that. Matthew had been waiting in the classroom the whole time. What had he been doing? He hadn't been worrying that whole time... had he?

He swallowed hard as it finally hit him, "He wasn't just being a worrywart; he was really scared."

"I simply can't condone this kind of behavior, Alfred. Did you even try getting the teacher's attention before you resorted to violence? I mean, really now…" Arthur trailed off as he noticed his son's shoulders rise and tremble.

"H-Hey Daddy?" Alfred offered meekly.

"Yes?"

"I really messed up today, huh?" Alfred's lower lip trembled as he met his father's gaze, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

Arthur offered a sympathetic smile and walked 'round his desk to kneel by his son. He placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, "Yes. You made some mistakes today, but everything will be alright. The important thing is you learn from your mistakes. Neither Matthew nor I like to see you get hurt, you know that."

Alfred clung to his father, "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry." He whispered.

"Hush now, it's going to be alright." Arthur repeated gently, rubbing soothing circles along the boy's back.

Meanwhile, the ever quiet Matthew had followed his uncle up into what had formerly been the guest bedroom.

It felt odd sitting on a bed that he'd scarcely ever paid mind to. He held Mr. Kumajiro gently as he watched Francis rummage through his belongings. Did his uncle really have something to make Mr. Kumajiro 'better'?

"Ah, here we are." Francis smiled as he located the object of his search, a small sewing kit.

Silver filigree traced the edges of the lid, making the simple set of tools seem as if they were some sort of hidden treasure. Matthew couldn't help but smile slightly; his Uncle Francis definitely had elegant tastes.

The Frenchman sat beside his nephew, extending a hand softly, "May I see Mr. Kumajiro for a few minutes?"

"Okay." Matthew nodded quietly, passing the precious polar bear into his uncle's care.

"Let us see…" Francis murmured as he carefully handled the stuffed bear. He ran his fingers gently over the strained limb. "Hmm."

"Is he hurt?" Matthew asked softly.

"Oui. The stitching in his leg is halfway ripped out." Francis frowned.

"Poor Mr. Kumajiro." Matthew sighed, "Everybody's getting hurt because of me…"

Francis eyed the boy softly, "Do not worry, mon petit. All we need to do is reinforce the limb with a little needle and thread." His tone bubbled with optimism.

Matthew tilted his head, watching as the man pulled a needle and a spool of white thread from within the sewing kit. The thread was pulled out to a length, and snipped by a small pair of shears. His uncle's fingers moves nimbly, threading the white string through the eye of the needle in one go.

"Now," Francis said as he began to sew, "We have got a start on patching up Mr. Kumajiro, so now it is your turn."

Violet eyes blinked rapidly in confusion, "But… I'm not hurt." Matthew said quietly.

"Not all wounds are on the surface, mon petit." Francis replied gently. "Tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Sad…and angry, but not at Alfred or the bully." The timid boy admitted.

"Oh? And why is that?" the Frenchman prompted, wrist moving in gentle strokes as he sewed.

"I'm sad because Alfred got hurt... and angry because I let it happen." Matthew murmured, "I should have run to get the teacher… but I was so scared that I couldn't move."

"But it was Alfred's choice to throw the first punch, no?" Francis reasoned gently.

"Maybe, but he always stands up for me… He shouldn't have to." Matthew whispered, "He shouldn't have to get hurt."

"You are right," Francis sighed, "He should not have to get hurt. And while there are things you can do to prevent these things from happening, his impulses are something that he has to learn to control, not you."

"What can I do?" Matthew asked sadly, "I'm not strong like Alfred… I'm not brave… I'm just a little baby…"

Francis shook his head, "If strength was measured by fighting, then you are not strong, because you are wise. If bravery was measured by recklessness, you have none because you display caution. A baby has neither wisdom nor caution. So where does that leave you, I wonder?" he mused lightly.

"Baby or not, I still get picked on all the time." Matthew stated flatly.

"I used to get bullied when I was a boy, too, you know." Francis replied with an affectionate smile.

"You did?" Matthew blinked incredulously.

"Oui. All the time." The Frenchman elaborated, "I came to the point where I dreaded every school day."

"What'd you do?" Matthew asked, curiosity piqued.

"I smiled." Francis replied simply.

"You're kidding." Matthew eyed the man suspiciously.

"It is the truth, I swear it." Francis held up his palms innocently, "It doesn't always work, but most of the time, a bully is looking for a reaction from you. They want you to get upset… So when you give them a calm smile, it can annoy them."

"I guess…" Matthew said, not entirely convinced.

"It helps, of course, if they don't have any leverage over you." Francis said easily, continuing his work on Mr. Kumajiro's leg, "You may want to consider leaving certain treasures out of their reach…"

Matthew's eyes widened slightly at the implications. "B-But I've never gone to school without- that is, Mr. Kumajiro might get lonely all by himself."

"It is just a suggestion, mon petit." Francis replied gently, "Though I do promise that if you choose to leave Mr. Kumajiro at home, I will not allow him to become lonesome. He and I will take an afternoon tea together, no?"

Matthew blinked. Then, all at once, his lips curved upward into a smile and he burst into giggles.

It seemed it was now Francis's turn to be caught off guard, "What is so funny?" he had to ask.

"Uncle Francis!" Matthew managed between giggles, "Mr. Kumajiro doesn't like tea."

The Frenchman chuckled, "No? Then what does he prefer?" He turned Mr. Kumajiro upright, examining his stitching.

"Mostly hot chocolate." Matthew replied, settling down, "And he likes sugar cookies, too."

Francis smiled, securing the final knot at the end of his needlework and cutting away the unused thread. "Is that right? Well, I shall be sure to keep that in mind."

"Is he all better now?" Matthew asked softly.

"Why don't you ask him?" Francis said mildly, passing the bear to the boy gently.

Matthew looked Mr. Kumajiro over and then hugged him close, "Mr. Kumajiro says he feels a lot better."

"That is good to hear." The Frenchman smiled, putting his sewing kit away once more.

"And maybe…" Matthew mumbled, sounding hesitant at first.

"Maybe?" Francis turned back to face the boy.

"He says that maybe, since you're so kind to him, he'll try staying home with you tomorrow." Matthew said softly.

Francis mussed his nephew's hair, "Then be sure he knows that I will be honored to have his company."

Mathew offered a slight smile, "Yeah."

There was a prompt knock at the bedroom door, instantly drawing both Matthew's and Francis's attention.

"Yes?" Francis inquired calmly.

"I hope we're not interrupting anything, but Alfred has something he'd like to say." Arthur's voice carried from the other side of the door.

"He does?" Matthew blinked.

"Come on in, mon ami. We were just finishing up." Francis called back to the Englishman.

The doorknob turned with a smart click. Arthur scarcely avoided being plowed over by Alfred the moment the door was open.

The boy raced over to the bedside, throwing his arms around his twin, "I'm so sorry, Matty! I didn't mean to worry you! I'll try to do better, I promise!"

Matthew blinked, "Hey, it's okay." He managed softly as he hugged his twin back. Alfred really felt guilty for having worried him… That notion in and of itself was touching.

"I know fighting is bad." Alfred went on, "But I just get so mad when I see someone bugging you! I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, but I have to try harder, too. I can't always let the bullies get to me." Matthew said softly.

Alfred blinked, "Matty…"

"And I think… well, Mr. Kumajiro might be more comfortable at home where it's safe." Matthew went on, causing Alfred's jaw to drop.

"You sure, Matty?" Alfred clarified.

"Yeah. I'm sure." The timid boy nodded, smiling.

Arthur's eyebrows had raised and he turned to Francis, "What did you say to him?" He mouthed. Matthew was completely attached to the stuffed polar bear, and he'd certainly never had the heart to tell him to leave it at home. What had Francis done to convince him otherwise?

Francis smiled and simply shrugged in reply.

Author's Note:

And so, here we have chapter 5. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter… Gosh, I wish I had a beta reader sometimes. *laugh*

Anyway, this chapter came in a rush of inspiration once I finally started typing it. I always doubt that I'm going to be able to fill out a chapter with a single idea. However, once the plot bunnies escape their cages, my fingers start flying across the keyboard. *laughs lightly*

On another note, the other fic I'm working on alongside this one, (with alternating updates) is 'A Fool's Errand', which is an FMA fic, for anyone interested in checking it out…

In any case, reviews make me happy and inspire me! See you all in Chapter 6!