La Tristesse

Chapter 1

Everyone dealt with their pain differently. Francis chose to smile, to broadcast love where often times there was none. He wore a mask of wine and roses to cover centuries of hurt, but sometimes it wasn't enough. Sometimes, for his sanity's sake, he had to wipe his facade away and spend a few days letting it all out. If he didn't, he'd be as crazy as Ivan and as angry as Arthur.
Arthur. Damn him. The thought of the man made him sick in so many ways. Sick because he needed him and sick because many of his wounds had been inflicted by him. It was a twisted thing, their relationship. It was carved with regret and spite, was saturated with blood and tears. So why did he always force a smile for him? For anyone? The only one he should ever smile for was Mattthew.
The poor boy. He could not proclaim to be a good father. He'd given him away. Turned his back on him. Let him be neglected and made into a ghost by that filthy British pirate. And why? Because he was selfish. Because he had not wanted any witnesses to his deepening depression. Not even his precious Mattie could know what lie behind his second face.
It was on days like this that he wanted to die. He was old and tired. Wine didn't dull the ache in his chest anymore. Not even the sounds of his beautiful city could distract him, it's sights only served as a reminder of how unchanging he was, how different everything around him would grow to be again. The future, in his mind, could only bring with it more pain, more promises of bloodshed and death. War. Disease. Hate.
He soaked tears up with his sleeve and took a deep breath. As pathetic as it felt to be this way, he couldn't do more than ride it out. There would be an end, though he didn't know when. Already it'd been a week. What a mess he was. His gorgeous hair was thrown atop his head in a sloppy bun and his shirt was rumpled from two days tossing and turning on the couch. His wine was warm in it's glass and his phone was long dead.
Though he'd just awoken, he wanted to sleep again. If he couldn't manage it by himself he'd take the pills. It was not a method he preferred as his body had grown accustomed to them and every time now he had to up the dose, but weeping all day was not a prettier alternative. Abandoning his wine glass on the coffee table he sank into the cushions and pulled his blanket up around his shoulders.
Joan would be ashamed of him. How weak he'd become. The thought made him cry again and he turned his face into his pillow as if he could hide his shame that way.
His agony was interrupted by the annoying chirp of his Skype. He glanced over to the chair where his laptop sat forlornly, Mattie and Kuma plastered on it's screen. The boy must have sensed his distress, that or Gilbert hadn't been able to get through to him on the phone. If he didn't pick up He was certain he'd have someone banging on his door within the next two hours- likely Antonio, and that was not something he needed right now.
Quickly he grabbed for the device and wiped at his eyes. "Bonjour." He greeted, letting his hair down as the video loaded. He was lucky the curtain were drawn. Over the fuzzy feed his bloodshot eyes were hidden.
Mattie waved and smiled at him. "Hi papa, can you see me?" Canada inquired, speaking in French. Kuma sat beside him looking bored. "Your phone isn't working."
"Ah, you know I turn it off when I am with a lady." He cooed, "It's only proper to give her all of your attention, yes?"
Matthew's smile fell away. "Why do you always lie to me?"
"Me? Lie to you? No, my precious boy, where would you-"
"Why're jou speaking in that flibbity-flab?" Gilbert inquired suddenly, appearing behind Matthew. "Yo, Francy-pants, talk so zhat ze awesome me can understand, ja? Why have jou been hiding? You look like shit. Kesesesese~"
"Gil, please." Mattie sighed, pushing the Prussian away with a force he usually reserved for hockey. "It's my turn right now, okay?"
Gilbert wasn't dissuaded. He jumped into Matthew's lap and leaned into the web-cam. "Yo, Francis, stop with the weepy-weepy. You make mien birdie worry. Ze only one mien birdie should think about is ze awesome me! Got it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, but do remove yourself from-"
"Gilbert Beilschmidt do not make me ask you twice." Matthew threatened in his soft tone, throwing Prussia off of him again, resulting in something shattering off screen. Gilbert did not return and Mattie switched back to French. "You're in a mood again, aren't you?"
He was horrified. Matthew knew? For how long? He fought the urge to close the computer and flee back to his blankets. "Uh- I'm fine, really."
"Have you eaten?"
"Well," he eyed the stale baguette on the counter and sighed. "No."
"Oh my maple, I'm coming over." The Canadian sighed. "I've had about enough of this."
"No, Mattie, really, you can't help. Please don't worry."
"Don't worry?!" Kuma jumped as his master's quiet tone raised an octave. "You've been off the grid for a week. You missed a meeting. Did you know that? Unlike me, people notice when you're missing."
He'd forgotten about the meeting. "I'll be fine in a few days. I'll charge my phone."
Matthew scowled a eerily Arthur-esque scowl. "If you don't text me every four hours I will show up and bring Gil and Antonio with me. They'll both be drunk. I'm not joking."
He would have been proud of his boy if he hadn't been the one being threatened. "Alright, Matthew. I will."
"Are you taking me seriously?"
"Always."
"If you don't shake this soon I will call him."
Gilbert chuckled from somewhere in the background. "Kesesesese~ Mien birdie is so hot when he is being fierce. Vhat are jou zaying? It zounds awesome even in zhat girly flibbity-flab."
"I've got to go, Papa." Matthew breathed, "But don't think I won't do it."
The call ended and Francis fell back into his blankets, but not before he put his phone on the charger.