France x Sick!Child!Canada - fading away

Matthew is only five years old. A sweet smile curves his small, rosebud lips as he colors with his crayons.

His father sits right beside him. Francis' eyes water with tears ready to fall. He can feel the pain filling up in his aching heart, but his baby boy always seems to wash that everlasting pain away.

The young boy suddenly begins to cough and wheeze. Francis' brows wrinkle in worry as he realizes Matthew is having a hard time breathing. Matthew looks up at him with a faint smile, giving his dad some kind of relief. "Oui papa... I'm okay." 

Francis tries to smile as he rubs his son's small back. Matthew sighs heavily and continues to draw. Francis sees that he is fine, so he stands up and walks over to the window. When Matthew isn't looking, he secretly wipes away the silent tears that escape his eyes. 

His mind drifts into thought. He thinks of his only love, his precious Matthew. Francis lost most of his family about a year ago.

His husband, Arthur, was hit by a careless driver while crossing the road. But what was even worse was that his other son, Matthew's twin brother named Alfred, was in Arthur's arms the entire time. They both did not survive.

Of course it was very difficult to explain the horrible news to Matthew. He was so young and could barely understand anything that was happening.

So now, Matthew is the only person that Francis has left. The one baby that is there to love. But the illness that he has doesn't make it any better. He is sick, and his body is weakening more and more with every day that passes.

Francis is anxious and depressed, nothing can possibly make him happy anymore. Only the smile of his baby boy. 

* * * * *

"Papa! Papa! Look what I drew!"

"Wow! That's amazing, Matthieu! I wish I was a good artist like you!"

Francis ruffles Matthew's silky locks, absolutely delighted.

"Really? You really like it?"

The older one laughs as he picks up the younger one, throwing him up in the air.

"Of course I do!" Francis exclaims when he lands back in his arms. Matthew giggles and looks up at him with bright eyes.

"Je t'aime papa!"

"Je t'aime aussi bébé!"

* * * * *

"Is there anything else you could do for my boy, doctor?" Francis asks with an anxious tone in his voice.

"I apologize Mr. Bonnefoy, but I'm afraid that Matthew only has a little time to live. I hope you understand that we've tried our hardest. Now, if you'll please excuse me." The doctor leaves and closes the door behind him.

Matthew coughs violently, his chest heaving with a weighed down feeling that makes him uncomfortable. He shortly stops and gains some control of himself.

"P-papa... W-what's happening?" Matthew chokes out. His eyes are brimming with tears.

"It's going to be alright, Matthieu! All you have to do is stay strong, okay? For papa...?" Francis whispers, his voice slightly cracking. He doesn't want Matthew to see him cry, so he tries his best to not let those tears go.

"Okay, I will..." Matthew promises before passing out. Francis holds his tiny hand in his. "That's it, bébé. Stay strong."

*  *  *  *  *

"Papa?" Francis hears the voice of his son, bringing him back to reality. "Are you okay?" Matthew asks, his young face showing concern.

"Oui, I'm always okay!" Francis flashes a pretend smile. Matthew returns the smile, and goes back to drawing. "What is that you're drawing, Mattie?" He asks. The child smiles again. "You'll see. It's a surprise for you when I'm done!" Matthew says cheerfully. "Alright, I'll wait." Francis smiles lovingly.

Matthew coughs again, squinting with the pain in his throat. Francis hurries to his side once more and strokes his back. It takes a bit for him to stop coughing, but he did it. He gazes into his father's eyes. Francis' eyes water greatly, tears streaming down his cheeks. Matthew tugs on his sleeve to get his attention.

"Why are you crying? Please don't cry anymore. I-I'm okay..." Matthew's voice quivers.

Francis looks up and blinks, laughing softly. He wipes the tears away like it's nothing. "I must look like a total mess, huh?" He says. Matthew giggles, relieved to see his father's playful side again. He tightly hugs him, and Francis hugs back just as tight.

The phone rings, breaking the moment. Francis sniffs his nose and sighs. "I'll be right back, mon cher."

Matthew nods and looks for the next color crayon he's going to use. He attempts to work on his picture, but he can feel himself... slowly fading away.

* * * * *

Matthew puts the finishing touches to his drawing. "There, it's perfe-" He can't complete his sentence, because he coughs and wheezes for what seems like the millionth time today. He deeply sighs and studies his art.

Tears well in his eyes, falling onto his flushed cheeks. The more he looks at the drawing, the more tears begin to take over. Matthew knows he isn't going to last. His body feels weak and frail, exhausted with no energy. He can't run around and play like the other children do. Instead of making new friends at school, he has to spend all his time either at home or at the hospital. Matthew wishes he can stay longer with his father. He only knew him for a short five years that flew right by.

He picks up the paper and flips it over. He writes something on the back that he hopes Francis will like. Even though he spells most of the words wrong, he would be able to understand. He finishes writing his message. His eyes feel heavy, as if he's falling asleep. "No! Papa said to stay strong!"

"Papa..." Matthew tries to call, but his voice comes out too quiet to hear. "... P-papa!" He attempts again. Francis hangs up, hearing his son's urgent voice pleading for him. He storms through the door and runs to Matthew's bed.

"Wh-what is the matter?" His heart pounds against his rib cage.

"I feel... tired... Papa, I'm scared..." Matthew answers drowsily. All the energy that he used to have is gone. Francis understands and nods his head. "That's okay, bébé. Here, put your head on my shoulder." He sits closely to Matthew on the bed. Matthew crawls into Francis' lap and rests his head on his shoulder as his tiny body is being hugged tightly.

The younger of the two savors the moment. His father's warm embrace and smell makes him content. He thinks of the memories throughout his life with him.

Matthew loves Francis with no end.

"Papa...?"

"You can say anything you want, Matthieu. Anything."

"Je t'aime... Papa..."

His violet eyes slide shut.

"Je t'aime. Je t'aime beaucoup, Mattieu."

Matthew's breathing slows down drastically... and then he stops.

Francis holds him close, but notices that he doesn't say anything else. The silence makes Francis sick. He carefully pulls Matthew away from his chest, but still holds him in his arms. He caresses Matthew's cheek, feeling his delicate, baby skin under his fingertips. His hand shakes as he runs his fingers through his son's golden locks for the last time.

Francis weeps. Cries. Sobs.

His baby... Is gone.

* * * * *

"I hope you like this drawing I made for you! I drew roses, because they are your favorite flower.

You are the best papa in the whole world. I love you with all my heart.

Love, Matthieu ♥ "

- the end ♥