The Darkness Beneath

-8-

Alister Kirkand's funeral was to be held a few days later, but Arthur couldn't move to plan anything.
"Mon Cher, you need to get out of bed." Francis insisted the day after the "accident". But Arthur couldn't respond. He was still in shock. He couldn't remember when the ambulance came or when Lukas left or even how he got upstairs. All he could remember was his oldest brother lying lifeless in the kitchen, his youngest son staring at his corpse without emotion. His own home had become a horror show.
"I know 'e was your brozher and zhat you cared about 'im, but 'e would want you to carry on."
"Francis," Arthur finally managed to croak. "Could you leave me alone for a while? Please?"
Francis sighed, a look of hurt crossing his face. He kissed his husband on the forehead and picked the remote off the nightstand. "I'll go make dinner. Do you want me to put a show on for you?"
"Mmm." Arthur nodded weakly.
Francis flipped through Netflix until he came across a compilation of old Monty Python sketches.
"Is zhis good?"
"Mhm."
"I'll bring your dinner to you."
"Thanks." Arthur pulled the blankets around him so only his eyes were showing.
Francis walked out of the room, leaving him in silence for only a short time.
"Daddy?"
The Brit looked toward the door, seeing the twins standing there.
Matthew was tucked behind Alfred, looking as shy and timid as he had when he was first adopted. Arthur was terrified of this boy.
"Hello." He breathed out, trying not to seem threatening.
"Papa said you were sick." Alfred looked nervous.
"Just a bit." It was too early to be explaining death to the boys. If Francis wanted to tell the boys that Arthur was sick, then who was he to disrupt that illusion.
"Maybe papa will make you chicken noodle soup and you will feel all better." Alfred dragged his brother into the room and climbed into the bed next to the Brit.
Matthew was hesitant to climb up, but he eventually did in order to stay latched onto his twin.
"What're ya watchin'?"
"Just an old show." Arthur answered. He knew this probably wasn't the best content for children to be watching, but he let them anyway.
The one sketch about the barber who hated hair cutting and wanted to be a lumberjack in British Columbia was currently on and Matthew didn't look very impressed by it.
Arthur's attention became more focused on his son than the show. The boys eyes were turning red again, but Arthur let himself blame it on the reflection cast of the Mountie uniforms on the screen.
But as the clip came to the end, the tv began to flicker. Sparks flew from behind it and in seconds it was on fire. Arthur couldn't bring himself to move until Alfred screamed. The Brit got up and threw his blanket over the flame, smothering it.
"What was zhat?" Francis rushed into the room, panting heavily.
"It must have been a fault in the wiring..." Arthur lied.
He damn well knew what had caused this.
And he was even more afraid of Matthew than he had been before.