His Twin--Part 2

The two concerned, frankly terrified, parents spent the entire night outside of Alfred's door.  It became clear very quickly that Alfred wasn't going to open the door and that they weren't going to get anything else out of him.  Besides muttering cryptically about his dead twin brother, Alfred had yet to say anything else. The entire night long, it was oddly silent. He had even stopped sobbing. Arthur would be lying if he said he hadn't imagined the lad snoring away after a while. Arthur held onto Francis in front of the door, wondering what was happening to with son behind the door.  Francis seemed just as worried, rubbing Arthur's shoulders in comfort.

The hours ticked by and the morning sun began creeping in through the window. Arthur was worriedly twirling Francis' wedding band around his husband's finger when he heard the door lock click. On the other side, he heard a sleepy voice mutter to himself, wondering why the door was locked in the first place.

"Alfred?!" Arthur jumped up hopefully, springing to his feet despite his exhaustion. The door swung wide and Alfred looked at his two parents, cocking his head to the side.

"Uh...Dad? Papa? What uh..what are you doing outside my door, eh?" He asked, seemingly thoroughly confused about the whole situation.

Arthur froze.

That wasn't his son standing at the doorway.  Well, it was but at the same time it wasn't.  Alfred looked different and sounded different, since when had he started calling Francis "Papa"? As for his appearance, Alfred's hair was slightly longer and had a bit of wave to it where it had been board straight just yesterday.  The bags were still under his eyes but they had intensified and his eye color. It had... changed? Gone were the crystal blues, replaced, or rather enhanced with a strange purple haze. But Arthur could still tell it was Alfred under all the changes nevertheless.

"A-Alfred?" Francis ventured, sounding just as unsure as Arthur felt. He grabbed his husband's hand in support.

"Yes, papa? Wait... are you two out here 'cause of what happened last night? Uh, my screaming woke you up, didn't it?" He asked quietly, blushing just a little. Arthur nodded at him, still unable to find his voice and the boy laughed, Alfred's boisterous, hearty laugh.  "I'm really sorry to have worried you! It was just a really bad dream, a really really bad one. I'm perfectly fine now. I know the last week has been rough, what can I say, school is hard but I'm fine." He smiled innocently before pushing past his parents. Arthur stared after him, a tight, sickening feeling forming in his stomach. Something was terribly wrong. The young teen was three steps down before Arthur stopped him.

"No... no you are not fine, Alfred.  You are clearly not yourself. What's going on?" He asked. Alfred turned and gave him yet another curious stare, holding on to the banister.

"Nothing's wrong, dad. I promise, just a few bad days. Everyone has them, I'm perfectly fine now, eh. Promise I'm still Alfred, cheerfully the Hero! C'mon. Let's go get some breakfast, okay?" He said, turning to bound down the stairs as if just to prove his point about being happy.

Everything seemed wrong with the situation and Arthur barely had time to process it when he heard yet another scream from his boy. This time it came from down stairs and once again, both he and Francis rushed to his aide, jocking for position on the steps.   Arthur was in full panic, trying not to push his equally as fearful mate down the stairs to get there first.

When they reached the landing, they discovered Alfred was standing in front of the hall mirror, touching his face and hair gingerly, as if he had never seen his own reflection before. His breath was ragged and his frame shook as one hand gripped the hall table for support. Arthur approached him softly but but froze in place again when there was a sudden and terrifying change in the boy.  Alfred became calm and relaxed in an instant, his shaking stopped, his hands dropped down to his sides and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Alfred turned to his parents, showing only the white of his eyes.  Francis gasped, clasping his hands to his mouth to stifle a scream and Arthur held his breath.

When Alfred spoke, Francis was unable to hold it in any longer.

"I-it's been so long, dad.  Papa. I missed you, eh. Sorry it had to come to this. I-I have some unfinished business I need to take care of. Alfie will be fine when I'm done with him. He'll be with me... finally."  A quiet voice that was not Alfred's came from his throat.  As quickly as the change had occurred, it stopped, then Alfred collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Realization, worry and a small bit of calm washed over Arthur as he rushed to his son's side. Thankfully, he was still breathing and his heart still beat rapidly in his chest, but Arthur knew now the worst was yet to come.  "Francis, help me get him to the couch." He instructed, seizing the boy under his arms and hauling him up.  Francis came, very reluctantly, over to cradled Alfred's feet and they both crab walked Alfred over to the living room couch. Panting after they had him settled down and comfortable, Arthur nodded.  "I know exactly was is going on and exactly how we need to fix it." He said, looking to his husband. He knew Francis wouldn't argue with him over this.  Where magic and the occult were concerned, Arthur always new what was best.

Francis sighed, "Matthieu's spirit 'as attached it's self to Alfred's soul, oui?" He asked, looking very fearful. If Arthur wasn't just as scared, he might have been impressed and quite proud of Francis' assessment of the dire situation.

"Yes, somehow, I'm not sure how it happened, though, that part is unimportant.  Right now, we need to focus on separating the souls before any more damage can be done." He said, bending down to check Alfred's temperature. It was steadily going up again and he was growing paler as the minutes ticked by.   "We are going to have to preform a seance."