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“Alright you two, did you brush your teeth?” Arthur tapped his foot impatiently, looking down at his two now six year old sons. Alfred and Matthew looked up at their Dad with loving eyes. They both adored him clearly. But Alfred looked most eager to please, giving his father the sweetest one front tooth missing grin.
”Yes Dad!” Alfred assured. Matthew simply gave a soft nod.
”You better have. I expect a much better report from the dentist the next time we visit.” He scolded. Alfred and Matthew had gotten their yearly check snd the results were quite grave. Micro-cavities and plaque build up beyond measure. It was a miracle they didn’t need major dental surgery. Arthur’s influence ran strong, they supposed. His teeth had always been quite terrible as a child as well.
”The dentist doesn’t know what she’s talking about! I still have baby teeth, these don’t even really count!” Alfred insisted as he bent over the top bunks railing to shout at Arthur clearly.
“Enough, Alfred. Goodnight you two.” The Englishman flicked off the light, then shut the door. The brash twin huffed but laid back down.
”Goodnight, Al.” Matt spoke out into the room. He cuddled up to his stuffed polar bear, cheek pressed against it soundly.
”Nighty Night Mattie.” He responded enthusiastically. Alfred was excitable to a fault. This wasn’t the best when he was trying to sleep, rolling around in bed, squeaking mattress springs and his crinkling plastic sheet keeping up his timid brother. Eventually sleep had found claim on him though. It was one of the most restful sleeps Alfred’s ever felt, truly.
.
.
.
Then he woke up to the wet feeling originating between his legs. Al sleepily peered down the ladder at the nightstand. It was 3:23AM, super late, surely everyone was asleep by now. He was no stranger to nighttime accidents, hence the plastic sheet. He’d gone a whole week without one though! How could this happened!? He put his mind to it for a moment, then it hit him. When he was going back and forth with his Dad he wasn’t reminded to use the potty before bed. That was Arthur’s job! That’s what Dads do, they tell you stuff, so when you really think about it, it wasn’t Alfred’s fault! This line of thinking did nothing to soothe Al, though. He still had to climb down the ladder, wet blanket in tow, and go inform his Dad and Papa he had yet another accident. That was mortifying. Alfred took a deep breath. He’d be okay! Dad wasn’t mean to him. Papa wouldn’t let him be, anyways. His grip on his blanket tightened. Time to go. 3. 2. 1. Now he was going down the ladder. fast enough for his liking, but not loud enough to wake up Matthew. He doesn’t know what he would do if Matt found out too. The boy found himself trailing down the hall, finding his parent’s room empty. Where could they be? Did they leave him and Mattie alone!? Alfred panicked, searching the kitchen, living room, office, everywhere far and wide. He just wanted help to be cleaned. Under his Dads study desk he curled up, tears pricking at his eyes. Where were they? He felt was wet, cold, tired, and he wanted his Papa to hold him up to the washing machine so he could fill the detergent tray. Alfred’s tears fell quick. They burned his cheeks while they ran down, he couldn’t help the sobs that creeped out of his throat.
“Daddy.. Papa…” Al rubbed his eyes, calling out into the void.
”Do you hear that?” Arthur held up a hand as if to still all sound by his will. “Doesn’t that sound like Alfred?” One of his bushy eyebrows raised. The couple was simply washing up after their. Fun. Let’s just say. The night was their only time of peace after all! Don’t blame them. Francis perked up from tying his robe, trying to listen as well. The faintest “Dad” echoed in the bathroom. The couple hurriedly tied their robes together, rushing out of the bathroom. “Al?” They entered his and Matt’s room, looking in Alfred’s top bunk. The smell was enough to deduce the issue. Al was nowhere to be found though.
”Mon petit? Papa is here, come out!” Francis urged. His worry grew by the moment. “We are not angry, don’t be scared-“ Then a comforting weight wrapped around his leg, Francis promptly plucked Al from the ground. “There is mon soleil!” He bounced Alfred happily in his arms, “Arthur!” that kindness quickly faded for Arthur. Francis damn near bit his head off with that scream alone. It was a little amusing to Alfred, earning a teary giggle.
”You found him, good!” Arthur approached, trading with Francis. He handed the wet sheets to him and was given his son.
“I’m sorry Dad, I couldn’t find you two! I thought you guys left us again.” Alfred wiped his eye.
”Again- don’t make that sound like a regular thing!” Arthur shook his head, quickly removing Al’s clothes. “You’ll understand the importance of dime beer hour when you’re older.”
”Whatever Dad…” He rolled his eyes. Quite the sassy six year old. Arthur handed the wet clothes to Francis, and took Alfred to the bathroom. The bath he was given was quite quick. It was nearly four in the morning after all. As much as Al wanted to put the detergent into the washing machine he was getting extremely exhausted. He could’ve fallen asleep right there in the tub. His Dad took immediate notice of that, helping him wash up quickly. By the time Al was taken out of the bath his head bobbed with sleep. His fathers adoringly tucked him into bed, fresh sheets and blankets provided by the trusty Papa Francis. The boy found himself having sweet, sweet dreams the rest of the night.