Look what you guys made me do!
Another story in the Superhero AU, and unfortunately it isn't cute and fluff like the last one. I love FrUk, it's one of my favorite ships, but just let this happen and I promise everything will get better...eventually.
Anyways, this is a prologue leading up the the multichapter story I am working on which I will probably publish the first chapter to in July.
I hope it can tie you guys over till then.
And also I hope the cover image's meaning isn't lost on you. Trust me- it foreshadows a bunch!
Anways, like always, I hope you guys enjoy the story and like it! Reviews are always welcomed!
Arthur had passed out in the main deck office. Again.
Francis looked at his friend before letting out a breath of air and moving forward, gently prodding the sitting and snoring older man. Files spread out under his upper half- something about the guards from Matthew and Alfred's last mission. It had been a week, and with Francis's quick healing Matthew was already back in action, on a special assignment with Gilbert. Alfred was fine too- well, he was bored from the lack of missions, as he kept saying over and over, but he was still physically healthy. So why was Arthur staying up late for that?
Francis shook the Brit, deciding his gentle prodding wasn't doing the trick after a moment. Arthur's head shot up, and he let out some ugly half-snore, half-lung gasp before he finally locked eyes with Francis. The Frenchman couldn't help the grin that stretched his face.
"You look amazing, Arthur." He teased. Arthur never let anyone see him in the morning and now Francis knew why. Bed head must be a bitch for the poor Brit.
"Sod off." Arthur yawned back, before standing, arms stretching up and cracking his neck.
Francis snickered before turning his head back to the papers on the office desk. They were indeed reports on the guards the two had brought in last week. In-depth packets with the name of each guard written across the top in heavy ink.
"Arthur, why are you doing all this? You need to sleep instead of worrying about these lower class minions." Francis waved them off, looking back at Arthur before placing a hand on his shoulder. "The League needs their leader to be well rested. He turns into quite the sour person if he doesn't sleep well, non?"
Arthur batted away his hand, rolling his eyes before his face turned grimmer- serious.
"They weren't second class nobodies, Francis." He said, moving back to the desk and the packets of all 10 guards. "They knew too much."
Francis paused, fully expecting some sarcastic and witty response rather than the more serious one Arthur has given him. The blond blinked before moving forward, peering over Arthur's shoulder and looking at the files. "What do you mean? They hardly dressed like real villains. No style besides that grotesque all black look. And beanies!" Francis let out a gasp, dramatically gripping his heart in a desperate attempt to lighten the environment. But Arthur did not respond besides a hum and gentle shake of his head. Francis felt something like a clench in his stomach- not the good kind he was usually familiar with but a more sinister grip.
"Francis- they knew about Matthew's weakness. That man turned that spotlight on to expose Matthew's shadow. Not to mention how they weren't planning for Alfred to appear out of thin air, based off how stun that bloke said they looked when he popped in. They knew that he would have usually barged through the roof or a wall, made some sort of grand entrance like he tends to do."
Francis eyed him, his rant making the Frenchman uneasy. Arthur was almost hysterical. It might have been the lack of sleep talking yet he sounded so charged. Like a madman almost. Francis resisted the urge to try another witty joke and instead moved his thoughts to meet Arthur's own. "How did they know he was going to show up at all? I mean, of course, they knew Alfred couldn't go invisible yet-"
"There were bombs on the roof. Under every panel and up every wall. The remote Matthew got was for those- not the fake ones around the entrances. Kiku already dismantled it and showed the remote detonator had the same signal as the bombs inside the infrastructure." Arthur murmured, it didn't need to be loud because it was so stunning Francis lost his ability to speak, and his voice filtered out into a small hitch of breath.
Silence hung heavy in the air after that. The silence between them was rare and unexpected, to begin with. Yet the pretense of the situation made it almost choking and demanding as it stifled the air in the main deck suddenly.
"They were expecting Alfred so they could set off bombs as soon as he came in through a bloody wall or the ceiling tile. They were waiting for us to respond to the threat since they knew the police would be helpless. Yet, they hadn't expected Matthew to be there, to sneak them both in." Arthur reasoned further. "Matthew was supposed to be on break that week, remember? But we changed it last minute because Ludwig's and Feliciano's departure left us with no one for a stealth mission."
Francis met Arthur's eyes, searching. "You really think they were trying to kill Alfred."
"They planned it all out, Francis. They were tipped off about Matthew's break, and they knew since it was in the U.S that Alfred would insist on going." Arthur murmured finally, meeting Francis's accusing look. "I know they were trying to kill Alfred. They had done research on all the heroes in the league it seems, based on their knowledge on Matthew. Yet, they still had one specific mission in mind."
"Blow up the building- take Alfred with it." Francis filled in the rest, and hand gripping tightly at the edge of the desk.
Arthur didn't need to say anything else, only give him a short nod. "In other words, we got lucky that Algeria sought our help. If not, we might have lost Alfred entirely."
"Mon Dieu, Alfred. He must have been so shocked when you-"
"I didn't tell him." Arthur cut Francis off. He dropped his gaze as well.
Francis felt a wave of disgust and anger at that. "You didn't tell him that the guards had fake bombs outside and that they were going to kill him because they thought he would be both the only hero available and the only hero even wanting to go because it was his country where it was happening?"
"Please, Francis, don't talk in such run on sentences. Besides, Alfred has no reason to know. All that matters is that we know now." Arthur insisted after a moment, seemingly trying to back up his actions. "We know now that there is something serious going on."
Francis shook his head. "It was one stupid mission."
"Orchestrated by a man who we never caught, and who never was at the warehouse."
"Arthur, are you seriously insisting that there is a man who wants us all dead and who also has so much influence that he has already begun trying to pick us off one by one? I find that harder to believe!" Francis stated in a sudden fit of frustration, accent thickening and words slurring together.
"Hard to believe, you mean." Arthur corrected and the Frenchman let out a growl of exasperation, pacing around in a circle. "Besides, even if I am wrong, we should at least consider all possibilities, make sure everyone is safe."
"I see what you are saying, I really do mon ami. But if you think that keeping it from everyone like you always do-"
"I don't keep things from the League!" Arthur rebutted, brow arching up in surprise at just how worked up francis was over all this. Yet his tone stayed hard, not quite anger but obvious hurt
"Ah, non, my bad. Just when it seems to pose a serious danger, if there even is one, you do?" He growled back and Arthur scoffed at his accusation hidden under the harsh words.
"Why the bloody hell are you so bent out of shape? I am only taking necessary precautions. Making the whole League panic will do nothing but give the man behind all this the satisfaction of our fear! Besides, if we informed the league the mole might-" Arthur paused, eyes widening in panic when Francis whipped his head around. Blue met green and the colors clashed rather violently.
"The mole? You think someone is a mole?" Francis sneered, and Arthur felt his chest puff up in indignation.
"How else would they know about Matthew being off, and that Lovino, Feliciano, and all our other usually stealth included heroes were off on duties? He had to have a strong grip on the League's information that he must be in our base of operations!" Arthur finished, nearing closer to Francis, face to face and yelling quite loudly that he was sure anyone sleeping in their dorms had woke up at this point. Yet the logical part of his brain only was connected to proving his point and pushing away Francis's.
"How could you even think that?! We have been together for 5 years now, ever since we figured out that we all had these abilities! Have you even befriended anyone here, or is it all a rouse to you! Do you care about no one but yourself?! You selfish Brit- do I even matter to you?!" Francis backed away suddenly, lip bit between two pearly white rows of teeth, and body shaking slightly. "Or am I just a possible mole needing to be taken out before any consequences occur?" He asked it softly, but it sent shivers down Arthur's back. His own fear boiled and bubbled in his stomach, and Arthur felt like he might puke.
"...Francis-"
"Tell me! Did you consider me a possible mole or not?!" Francis pressed, voice cracking in the middle and Arthur felt a horrible pull at his heart. He was not young- 38 was ever approaching and he had been through lovers before. Yet this unfamiliar want, this unfamiliar pain he felt whenever he saw the Frenchman so utterly shook was something he had never felt with those lovers before.
"I have to include everyone as a possibility." Yet, Arthur was older now than he was when he was young and all punk rock and piercings. Logic always needs to trump emotions. No matter how painful it was- facts were undeniable. And the fact of the matter was that even Francis needed to be checked as a mole. That even he was not immune to this search.
Francis did not move for the longest period of time, did not stutter of cry or even breath. Until finally, the man moved his hand out, and Arthur was sent sprawling to the floor and the force of the punch. Arthur coughed lightly, feeling copper fill up on his tongue and a tooth jar around in his mouth. The Brit found it horribly ironic the healer had hurt him, yet the irony was lost with him when he peered up into Francis's cold face.
"After everything too. We always toed around but we cared about each other." He murmured and Arthur no longer had the willpower to look up. Instead, he turned his head and spat out the tooth. Francis's breath hitched above him at the action. "At least, I always cared for you. But it seems you really are cold and manipulative. You do what you need to ensure the greater good without taking anyone else's thoughts into consideration. You are cold and heartless, and I see why now, more than ever, no one has ever seemed to love you."
Arthur watched the floor, silent and giving the man time to ramble, to think out his emotions. He knew that no matter what he said, he would always come up short. Because Arthur knew Francis was right. The greater good always came first. Before him, and before his own relationships.
"...But if you want me to play along, I will." Came to the comment that made Arthur look up in surprise, only to flinch back at the anger still there. "If you want me to act like nothing's wrong and everything is okay, I can do that. After all, I have been doing that the whole time between us. I can do it to the whole League too."
Francis was gone after that, a quick slide of the door leading him further and further away from the British man, laying on the floor of his office, and crying ugly sobs into his hands. Yet Francis felt nothing as he walked back to his dorm, by passing the one he usually he slept in, knowing that Arthur would not have the satisfaction of seeing him in that room ever again.
When Alfred came out in his pajamas, and sleepy yet confused, Francis kept a brave face, smiling and joking around that he and Arthur had gotten into another silly argument. The American had sighed, complaining a little and returning to his dorm, saying he'd tell Kiku and Yao on his way back that everything was fine, as they were the only other people in the dorms.
Yet, when Francis had returned to his own dorm, messy from the months of barely any use, he fell against the door and felt the tears move down and caress the face. He made no noise, yet his throat was burning with words and pent up emotions. But all the healer could do was cry, and desperately clutching his chest in the desperation to somehow heal it despite the capability of his powers only being physical.
The man grinned, watching the breakdown and giving a huff of relief. "I was almost afraid they would make up. How utterly pathetic, these heroes." He stood up, a quivering assistant quick to follow his actions. The man had been seeing through his mole's eyes, his constant peering oblivious to the older men. His assistant was told to wait till he spoke to do anything- the man had explained how silence was necessary for his powers to perform.
"Sir, w-would you like to-"
"You already know my answer." It didn't have to be yelled to make the other jump, as authority shown from each word. The scrawny assistant moved forward at once, fingers clutching out weakly for the radio located on the table to their right.
'Your m-mission has done w-wonders. I can assure y-you that the others will not suspect you." The assistant read out his dialogue, not needing the notecard anymore. He had memorized, the fear compelling him to soak in every word beforehand. "You are t-to begin stage 2 of the mission. Proceed with c-caution. Any su-suspicion will lead in i-immediate execution on your r-return to base."
"Affirmative." And with that, the radio was turned off, set back down, and the assistant nodded to the man who had moved to studying the map plastered on the far wall. Though the assistant could not see his face, he was assured the man knew he had nodded at him.
"You stuttered too much for my liking. All you hostages do nothing for our missions but add in more problems." The assistant backed up, eyes widening. "Shame too- it brings out the fun in watching you all squirm around. I wonder how you see me- as your father who abused you? As your most trustworthy friend who you abandoned so long ago? Tell me, poor Alfred must miss you, Davey."
Davey let out a whimper, scouting back only to move into a wall, eyes welling with tears at the words.
"Did it hurt to know he made it so far without you?"
"Stop!" He yelled out, desperate and the voice chuckled almost pathetically out.
"Oh, Davey. No need for rudeness. Not to your old pal." The fake Alfred's voice let out a harsh growl. "That's going to be your last words now."
Davey had no time to respond, before his mind seemingly shut off, and slipped to the side, eyes glazed over and body lax.
The man sighed in slight pity, before waving his guards to take care of the dead body. The man turned once more to the map, and smiled sickly at the dot right in international waters, off the coast of Africa and in the Atlantic. The League of Cooperating Nation Bound Heroes' base.
They were so close to running into his trap, that the man couldn't wait to see them all. He wondered what he would like to that pathetic speedster anyways. He hoped that his prey didn't take too long in Algeria.