It was too late at night for him to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

Stars twinkled above Francis's head, streetlights illuminating the path ahead of him. Home wasn't far, but at the rate he was walking now it might take a little while to get back. Maybe ten minutes, he reasoned as he continued to walk away. He'd left just to get some air - paperwork had become too much and his house had been stuffy; he was too restless to go to sleep and the moon was full. All in all, it was a gorgeous night to go walking, so he'd taken the opportunity.

He smiled as he made his way into the local park and sat down at a bench, taking a moment to appreciate the quiet. It wasn't every day that he stayed at this house - not the usual, extravagant affair that he loved to live in. It was home away from home, a quiet town where he could come to think and do whatever he wished (even if that was paperwork). In this town, at least, he could simply be Francis, and not the country of France…it was a strange thing to want to be, but Francis didn't mind indulging himself from time to time.

He didn't notice the quiet footsteps that were sounding behind him, echoing softly across the pavement. Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath and relaxed, leaning back on his hands as his gaze turned to the full moon above him.

Suddenly and out of nowhere, a shiver wracked his entire body. It wasn't nearly cold enough for him to be shivering, and he had a jacket. No, this was something different…instinct. Something was wrong, very wrong…

He jumped slightly when he finally heard the footsteps - too close for comfort. Startled, he jumped to his feet and whipped around, looking confused when he saw a man in dark clothing standing just behind the bench and smiling at him.

"…pardon me," he said cautiously. "I didn't see you."

"That's alright…" The man grinned, showing his teeth now. Francis averted his gaze - this was all very, very wrong. He felt sick to his stomach, and every part of his body was telling him to run, now, but he stood his ground. This man was probably just lost, asking for directions. It was very late, after all…that had to be it… "Say, could you help me out? I'm trying to get back to my hotel, but it's very dark and I've lost my way."

Francis smiled at this despite the fear that continued to gnaw at his stomach. If this man did try to pick-pocket him in any way he'd simply fight back - he was strong enough, of course. "Of course," he finally replied, smiling as he began to walk forward. "Follow me. Do you know which street it's on?"

"Yes," the man replied. "I think I might know the way, I just would rather not travel alone…"

"I understand," Francis said, feeling much more self assured now that the man had opened up to him. He was probably just wearing dark clothing because it looked nice on him - black was in this season, as well. The more Francis thought about it, the more he was alright with walking beside this man as they headed back to his hotel. "What did you say your name was?" he asked. The man smiled pleasantly.

"Everyone calls me by my nickname - Arrow. You can too, if you'd like."

"Arrow…" Francis smiled, nodding. "Very nice to meet you. My name is Francis…"

The continued to converse, Francis paying more attention to the other man than to his surroundings. He almost didn't notice when they turned down an alleyway, but as they approached a dead end, Francis suddenly became alert. The sinking feeling returned, and his gaze snapped back to the man called Arrow, who now faced him with a knife in hand - he glanced past him and noted that two other men had appeared…they'd been following the entire time.

Francis had been tricked.

To hide his fear, he put on a confident smirk and stepped back, balling his hands into fists. "If you had wanted my money, you should have just said so," he sneered, straightening up to his full height as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, grabbing all of the money he had and tossing it to the ground in front of 'Arrow'. "There you are. I won't fight - you can take it. I'll give you my cards as well if that's what you wish, but–"

His eyes widened as Arrow disregarded the money and moved forward swiftly, knife against Francis's neck now. "That's not what I want at all…" Arrow replied, smiling darkly as the he snapped his fingers. The other two men came forward, blocking either side of him so that he could not run. "No, we're going to have some fun instead…grab him," he ordered of the men.

Francis's first instinct was to fight - he kicked as hard as he could at the man on his left and punched the man on his right in the stomach when they reached for him - before he remembered the blade that Arrow had, now pressing much more firmly against his neck. Nation or not, cutting someone's throat was very likely to kill…trembling, he let his hands fall back to his sides, staring at the other man with new found fear.

"You can't…" he finally managed, unable to believe that this was happening, to him…

Arrow smirked. "I already am."

He found his voice again as they grabbed him and threw him to the ground, knives cutting all too quickly through his clothing and nicking his skin carelessly. And he screamed.

Francis screamed as loudly as he could.

He screamed…but no one heard.

It was morning when someone woke him.

Bruised, naked, and stunned, Francis was barely able to open his eyes. When he finally did, he was staring into the face of a woman, who looked horrified at his state. In any other case, he would have smiled and made some sort of joke…this time, he barely managed the word he needed. "Help…"

The woman graciously covered him with a blanket she had and escorted him back to her house only a few doors down. She was explaining to Francis how she'd seen him in the alley and thought he might have been homeless, but as she'd gotten closer his appearance had said something different…he wasn't paying as much attention as he could have been, too dazed and confused and in pain to want to even think. One thought kept running through his mind, the same thought that had haunted his restless nightmares since he had passed out in the alleyway…

I was raped?

The men's faces were blurry, but the emotions he'd felt were burned into his mind. Every painful step was a reminder of the previous night's events, and it took all of his will power to continue walking. He didn't notice when the woman asked him a question, not responding until she finally brought him into her house and sat him down. "I know you are hurt, but please listen…" she said softly, her voice level and calm. "I am going to call the police so that they can help you. Do you have any family that I can call?"

Shaking, Francis shook his head, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. "D-do not call the police…" he mumbled. "I am alright…"

"You are not…" the woman whispered sadly. "Please, let me call them…I picked up the wallet and cell phone that were in your clothes, and…"

"Please…" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "…do not…I would like to take a shower and…and go home…that is all. Please…"

The woman stared at him for a long moment, but finally nodded her head, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, and she stared at him with wide, sad eyes. "I am sorry…the shower is right down the hall. I'll get some clothes for you…" she whispered, her hand falling back to her side. He watched as she walked away, trembling as he finally buried his face into his hands and began to cry, three words running through his mind.

I was raped.

And Francis could do nothing to avoid it.