The Long Way Home

Seventeen

When Matthew woke up the next morning, things were quiet.
Quiet Saturday mornings were probably typical of other families, but not in this one.
Where was the clattering in the kitchen? Where was the bickering?
Matthew looked over to the bed beside his.
Where was Alfred?
Slipping out of his bed, Matthew wandered out of the room. He didn't remember Alfred coming home...was he sleeping that deep?
He entered the living room to find his father sleeping on the couch. Did he and papa bicker? Was Arthur in the dog house again? Matthew knew he would have woken up for that. Wouldn't he?
"Dad..." Matthew shook his father's shoulder, easing him out of sleep.
"What time is it?"
"I don't know." Matthew admitted. "Did papa and Al come home last night?"
Arthur sat up suddenly, eyes widening in shock.
"N-no." He reached into his pocket and handed Matthew his phone. "Text Alfred and see if they're okay. I'll call Francis."
"Right." Matthew paced the room as he turned his phone on. He could hear his father muttering soft "come on"s and "pick up"s from across the room.
When the device finally started up, it started beeping madly with texts. Matthew quickly opened them.
The first few were just from friends...but the rest...
There were so many messages from Alfred.

This party is lit. You're missing out.

Dude, some chick just threw up on this other kid's car and now they're fighting.

Have you ever mixed vodka with root beer and lemonade? Do it.

I'm going to regret this tomorrow.

Please prepare a hot bath and a juicy cheeseburger for me when I return.

YOU FUCJKING RATTED ON ME?!! I'M NOT TALKING TO YOU ANYMORE.

Okay, whatever. I still love ya. But I want bubbles in my bath.

Oh thank god. Pops is picking me up. Can you drug dad so he's sleeping when I get home? I don't want to be lectured.

Oh shit. Dad must have your phone. Why the hell am I still texting you?

MATTIE? MATTIE ARE YOU THERE?

Matt please help

Dad

Somebody

I think pops is dead

Help

I'm scared

Everything hurts

Mattie...

"Matthew? Are you alright? You're white as a sheet, lad." Arthur caught Matthew before he fell. He couldn't feel his legs.
"I t-think s-something h-happened."
"Breathe, Matthew." Arthur soothed. "Slow down and tell me what-"
"We need to call the police!" Matthew pushed his father away. "Something happened and I think they're...they're...they're..." He broke down crying before he could say the last word. He didn't dare speak those four dreadful letters. That one awful syllable.
"Matthew, tell me." Arthur's hands were shaking. Matthew had never seen him this scared before.
The boy handed his phone over, not able to articulate what he wanted to.
Arthur read over the messages, shock on his face.
He didn't get a chance to act before the pair heard a knock on the door.
It was Alfred! This was all some awful prank! Matthew should have expected that from those two.
Unfortunately all of that was an illusion. The person at the door wasn't Francis and it wasn't Alfred.
It was a Mountie.
"C-can I help you?" Matthew asked.
"Does an Alfred Jones and Francis Bonnefoy live here?"
Oh no.

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