STOP! IMPORTANT NOTICE! if you have not read gestohlene Prinzessin, this won't make any sense. If you have not read to the last update (Chapter 18) It contains spoilers! Do not read unless your prepared for that! Also... It might suck... I like it, but I'm weird and artsy. it's kinda goin up as an "i'm sorry for not having an update today because I've been suffering writers block" I promise tomorrow!

Madeline had been gone for a year, his sweet baby, his light… there were no clues, no traces and no rest for francis. Everywhere he looked he saw her face, every tiny blonde girl caused his heart to jump. a flash of purple making him do a double take. It was torture. How are you suppose to survive this? Hw are you even suppose to keep going after your child has been taken…

The prayers started as a plea, Begging to keep her safe… Keep her alive and let them find her. He would drop to his knees by the bed each night while his husband stood silently in the door way watching on. "Watch over her please, let her be safe, help her to be the smart sweet little angel she is… Help me to find her again… Please…" but it would always end in crying or screaming. Heart shattering into a million pieces as he sunk to the floor, begging, head in his hands, sobs wracking his entire body. "Please just let her be alive and okay…"

Arthur would watch on every night… Wishing desperately to stop his husbands pain, but his own was maddening. No matter how much he searched, no matter what strings he pulled, nothing. There was nothing. He could do nothing! He would express his pain in anger. By the end of the first year, half of the breakables in the house had been smashed, they had gone through three window repairs and Francis stopped replacing picture frames. All the connections in the world weren't bringing her back

four years she had been gone when Francis stopped praying to bring her home… He had given up the hope of finding her alive. Now he simply prayed for her soul "Please hold her close, let her feel loved, let her be safe and warm. Keep her for me until I get there and I can hold her again, let her know her Papa thinks of her every moment. Please give me the strength to get through this for Alfred"

Arthur didn't even listen to the prayers anymore, he wouldn't accept it, he wouldn't stop looking. she had to be out there and he didn't care how far he had to go, he would track her down. He would call in every favour, every connection, no matter how horrible the consequences. He would burn the world to ash to find her. His obsession over took.

Six years after she disappeared, Arthur hit a lead. A twelve year old blonde girl with violet eyes had been found wandering the streets in Canada, no one knew where she came from and she couldn't remember a thing. Francis dares to hope, praying it was her, pleading and begging to see her again. For it to really be her.

Arthur was sure, it had to be… This had to be their little girl! This had to be their Madeline! He flew across the world to see her again.

It wasn't her

Francis broke.

Arthur prayed. He prayed Francis would recover from this… That he would pull through, even though the doctors weren't optimistic. The man refused to speak, he refused to eat… All he did was lay and sob. With enough meds pumped in you could get words, but they weren't coherent thoughts. simply guilt filled confessions about it being his fault. If he was only watching closer, if he hadn't let go of her hand…. Arthur watched him waste away for six months before he snapped. Before he dragged him out of that hospital room, shoved him in front of his son and reminded him they had more than one child, and this one was right there and needed him. Francis stopped praying

Alfred started helping. he couldn't do much at 12, but he scanned the internet, a picture of his sister tucked in his pocket with him always. He became as obsessed as his father. He trained anyway he was allowed, aiming to be like his father, so he was ready to be her hero, to save her. All the while searching there had to be a lead.. Someone had to have seen her, she had to be somewhere. They didn't tell Francis they were still looking.

eight and a half years passed and there was a call. Alistar had found her, he was sure. The girl looked exactly like Alfred, her eyes were bright purple. She was healthy and whole and in the care of people with guns… she was in Germany and that seemed to be all she spoke. The boy she was with, who she had clung to in fear of him, was the spitting image of his father, there was no mistaking who took her.

Alfred and Arthur left on a business trip two months later. They joined Dylan and Alistair in watching her. It had taken the two uncles all their strength to hold Alfred back when he saw her for the first time. Arthur would have helped hold him, but every fiber of his being cried out to run to her. Only the knowledge that he would be dead before he got halfway held him back… He still needed to work not to try. Lisa joined then a month later.

Francis had no idea.

They got her back! It was her! Alfred didn't care if she didn't know him yet, she would, she would come home. His sister was alive and safe and away from those people, he would learn German if he needed to he didn't care! she was right there!

Arthur tried to hide his hurt, he tried to keep it inside. The fact that it was his little girl and she had no idea who he was… He had lost all that time, so much time and it stung that it would never be the same as it was. She looked at him with such hate.

Francis was told. It was definitely her this time. DNA confirmed it. It was Madeline, they had found her and they had her. He was angry and scared and elated all at once. Emotion overwhelming him as he broke every single speed limit rushing towards Germany. He came into the house they borrowed and bolted, if something, or someone, was in his way it was getting broken and he didn't care. His daughter was in this house and nothing was going to take her again.

He saw her and his heart ached. She screamed she begged, there was so much terror, so much confusion… He wanted nothing more than to cradle him in his arms and rock her until she calmed. He prayed silently once more thanking god for bringing her back, promising that he would do anything ANYTHING to make her feel safe with him again, as long as he could see her and hear her again he wouldn't care how long it took. She looked at him and those eyes! Those eyes he'd dreamed of were there in front of him. He could see confusion and clarity in them all at once, and then the guns started.

She ran, Francis broke. She had been right there… He had touched her, she had spoken to him. He saw her recognize him, if only for a second! She knew him! But she was leaving, they were stealing her all over again, and she was letting them! He screamed for hours, having to be locked in a room to stop him from running after her and getting hurt.

Alfred stayed behind with his father nursing a few minor injuries. He may need a few stitches, but nothing as bad as the bullet hole dad had put in that dicks shoulder.

Arthur, Alistair, Lisa and Dylan did their best, the house was too well guarded. There was too much activity, too much cover and too many cars to follow all going in separate directions. Their spy was dead…

Information came. She was alive and in trouble. She had tried to escape with one of the Beilschmidt boys and come home to them. They were both being held, they were both resisting. She was breaking mentally, and he didn't have much left physically.

Arthur, Alfred and the kirklands moved quickly. Francis panicked. Being left behind he did know if he should pray or scream, hope or give in, … If they brought her home, what would she be? Would that moment in her eyes still be there? … If they didn't bring her home… Would he be able to carry on? ...What if none of them came home? He didn't sleep.

They got her. They needed to take their time coming home to make sure no one tailed them. She was in rough shape. Madeline had killed someone. Francis's heart stopped at the text message his son sent. She was suffering, torn apart and fragile. Francis would need to be gentle with her, not force anything. They were bringing the oldest Beilschmidt boy, It was non-negotiable, she needed him, he was the only thing that stopped the screaming. Lisa had dropped their new informant off at a motel for the boys to pick up and helped the cooks run. She would be heading home shortly after.

Francis waited.